


Faking It For A Living

by The_Consulting_Werewolf



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Luhan is secretly emo, M/M, also tao, chen is chill, d.o. is blind, gdragon is the only smart person, kim junmyeon isn't any better, wu yifan is a dork, xiumin is stupid too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-14 03:04:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 42,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7150481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Consulting_Werewolf/pseuds/The_Consulting_Werewolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yifan meets Junmyeon while on a blind date. He finds himself slightly fascinated by the short attractive Korean man who says he is an illustrator. While, Yifan lies about his job.</p><p>Junmyeon meets Yifan while on a blind date. He finds himself crushing after the tall, stupidly sexy Chinese man who says he works in the broadcast industry. While, Junmyeon lies about his job.</p><p>They are not too willing to share their occupations.</p><p>Because reasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. WHERE I KISS YOU AND FORGET TO TAKE YOUR NUMBER

**Author's Note:**

> warning: i am going to unleash the weeb that i am deep down in this fic

Yifan looks down at his hands. He never did think too much about the size of his hands when he was younger, in Canada, playing basketball. His hands helped him play well. But then he landed here, in Japan, and suddenly, he wants to laugh and cry at the same time as he looks down at his hand. _Yaoi hands_. That is what they are. His hands fulfil every homoerotic manga/anime character cliché ever.

They are large, ungainly and tells everyone he tops in the relationship (even when he is desperately single).

And the funniest (or saddest) part is? He is a voice actor. And he works mostly in the homoerotic anime genre.

It is like his physical make-up prepared him for his destiny since day one.

Or as his only Chinese friend in Japan told him, “Bro, you were destined to be the hero of a yaoi anime. Some of us don’t know our purpose, but you, Wu Yifan, were born with it, the gift from god. And that is why you are here, faking orgasms for a living.”

“Yo,” said friend shows up in front of Yifan. Yifan scowls as he watches Luhan, his only best friend, take a seat opposite him, “What’s up?”

“My standards,” Yifan rolls his eyes, “How did you know I was here?”

Yifan usually came to this same café every evening before he left for his other, lesser paying job as a bartender. Luhan scoffs, “You come here every day.”

Oh yeah, right. Yifan looks down at his half-eaten croissant. He pushes the plate towards Luhan, who grins and starts eating without much prefix. Yifan says, shaking his head, “You are lucky you don’t put on weight.”

“Well, obviously,” Luhan says, his mouth stuffed with all the heavenly flaky buttery goodness, “Being thin naturally has me brought me this far.”

Yifan shakes his head some more. Luhan is a model, and a popular one at that. He says, “I know you are here for something, so spit it out.”

“A blind date,” Luhan explains.

“Excuse me?” Yifan sits up straighter.

“Don’t worry, the other dude doesn’t know what you do for a living, if that is what you are worried about. He is Korean, and he is an art director. And like really, really cute.”

“Luhan…stop. And no.”

Luhan asks, his deer-like eyes widening, “Why?”

Yifan leans forward, “One, I don’t trust you. Two, I am not that desperate for a relationship.”

“Oh yeah?” Luhan leans forwards and smirks, “Friday night you got drunk as hell and told poor Taozi, our resident panda, that you were afraid your dick was going to fall off if you didn’t get laid anytime soon.”

Yifan starts coughing, his face getting hotter by the second. The evil glint in Luhan’s eyes tells him that Luhan knows he won.

 

Junmyeon sighs and plops his head down on his worktable. That was the last panel. He is a mangaka for a living. And sometimes work can get so stressful. He raises his head and looks down at the latest chapter of _From Heaven to Hell_. It is his new manga, his first publication in over a year. No, wait, it is Kim Ji-n’s latest work in over a year.

Yes, he publishes under a female name.

Because he is a josei mangaka. A homoerotic josei mangaka.

And it was his agent’s great idea to have him publish under a woman’s name because “It will sell better!”

Okay, when he was younger his mom once dressed him up in a frock and joked how pretty a woman he would make. Fun fact, sometimes, before he started his godawful journey into puberty, people would mistake him for a girl. Now, he is Kim Ji-in and no one knows how she looks like (except for his editor, and his best friend).

Funny how an art degree works in your life.

His phone rings. He glances at it, thinking if he should pick it up, or not. It is his best friend, Kim Minseok, calling. Junmyeon already knows why Minseok might be calling. Minseok gave a preview of the matter of discussion over thirty texts on Line, complete with ridiculous emoticons. The phone stops ringing. He put The Weeknd’s _Earned It_ as his ringtone. He has become a The Weeknd fan recently, even though he wonders where the ‘e’ in Weeknd is. Maybe it is lost in that hair.

_“Cause you ea-ea-ea-earned it”_

Junmyeon jumps as his phone starts ringing again. It is Minseok, again. He sighs and picks it up this time. Minseok shouts, “Where were you?”

“Bathroom,” Junmyeon lies.

“Like fuck you were; you are avoiding me Kim Junmyeon.”

“Duh. Genius. Congratulations. I was.”

“Come on Myeonie! This isn’t a bad idea at all!”

“Yes it is,” Junmyeon grits his teeth, “It is a _blind date_.”

“Why are you against a blind date? I heard the guy is very cute!”

“Minseok…”

“Come on Myeonie…aren’t you ever bored? It has been three years since that fucker left…”

Junmyeon bites his lips. Fuck. He can hear how upset Minseok is getting. Peer pressure. So he sighs and admits defeat, “Fine. But if he gives me axe murderer vibes, I am nope-noping out of there.”

“AWESOME!” Minseok screams and Junmyeon has to take his phone away to keep his delicate eardrum intact.

 

Yifan opens the door to find Luhan beaming at him. Except there was nothing nice about that smile. It is evil. “A harbinger of doom,” Yifan mutters and nods his head, agreeing with himself.

Luhan pushes him aside and walks in Yifan’s apartment. “What doom? I am here to help!” He cries and clutches his chest dramatically.

Yifan rolls his eyes and shuts the door. “Did I ask for your help? Wait…help with what?”

“You! This is your first date in like a million years! You got to look good Fanfan!” Luhan claps his hands and runs for Yifan’s bedroom.

Yifan sighs and follows Luhan. He grumbles, “Thanks Lulu, but I can dress myself.” He sits down on his bed as he sees Luhan turning his closet upside down. He makes a note mentally to have Luhan put back his closet in order again.

Luhan finds an old denim shirt and crinkles his nose, “Eww denim shirt. Hey, do you know a denim top and a denim bottom is called a Canadian tuxedo?”

Yifan glares. Of course he knows. Luhan grins and his purple head of hair disappears in the depths of Yifan’s mess of a wardrobe again. He rummages for a while and suddenly with a loud yelp he finally finds what he likes. Even though Yifan hates Luhan’s constant hovering in his life, he is still sort of thankful that Luhan is choosing clothes for him, because god knows he was very close to having a meltdown wondering what to wear.

Luhan straightens back up with two black garments dangling from both of his hands. “Black shirt, black pants. Simple and sexy.” He pushes them unto Yifan’s chest. “Unlike you.”

“Hey!” Yifan shouts over his shoulder as Luhan pushes him towards the bathroom. “I am plenty sexy!”

“You trip on air, and you think alpacas are your spirit animals. The sexy is all fake, and for show.” Luhan gently reminds his best friend. Yifan doesn’t have a comeback to that.

When he is done dressing, Yifan looks at himself in the mirror. He will give one to Luhan, he doesn’t look bad. He exits the bathroom and Luhan whistles. He mocks wiping a tear and says, “I am a genius. I am a visionary. I am going to get my best friend laid. Someone should give me a sainthood. Saint Lulu, the miracle worker when it comes to single and sad friends.”

Yifan clenches his fist and he tells himself homicide isn’t an option. He rolls his eyes and huffs, “Oh god, stop. You are Satan’s human spokesperson.”

Yifan picks up a brush when Luhan shouts, “Hair up boy! We want your date to think you are hot as fuck and a sex god, not an eighteen-year-old with your hair down!”

Yifan rolls his eyes again but follows Luhan’s advice. He will admit that between him and Luhan, his idiot of a friend has far more fashion sense than him.

“So,” Luhan places himself in the middle of Yifan’s bed, “What are you going with when he asks you what you do for a living? I didn’t tell him anything.”

“Same old,” Yifan fights with his hair as he answers Luhan. They were talking about Yifan’s profession.

“Do you think you will ever tell anyone the truth?”

“Well, on the first date, definitely no.”

“Yeah, who wants to know that you make thirty different kinds of orgasmic sounds for a living on a first date?”

Yifan throws his brush at Luhan’s face.

 

Minseok stares at the pair of fluffy, bunny slippers and grimaces. Junmyeon sees it. He threatens, “Don’t you dare think about hurting my best slippers.”

“Why a rabbit Myeonie?” Minseok says. He doesn’t like rabbits ever since one traumatic Easter experience. “There are other fluffier things.”

“Rabbits are cool. Shut up.”

“No place in this world for helpful people.” Minseok sighs and tries to look pathetic.

Junmyeon flicks his best friend on his forehead and hisses, “I don’t even remember asking for your help.”

“Oh please,” Minseok rolls his eyes, “Wear your contacts.” He proceeds to pointedly glare until Junmyeon relents.

It works. Junmyeon had the contact lens case in his hands. He looks down at it and curls in lips in disgust. He really hates contact lens. They itch and he doesn’t enjoy the feeling of something foreign in his eyes. He says, in a small, scared-little-boy voice, “Do I have to?”

Minseok nods his head, “Yes. We need to up the attractive Myeonie. Just do it.”

Junmyeon flinches, “Fine, fine. Don’t go all Shia Labeouf on me now.” He puts the offending piece of plastic in his eyeballs. His body tries rejecting it and fat tears roll down his cheeks anyway. He reckons he is putting on lenses maybe after three years or so. He is so out of practice.

After battling his tear ducts, he finally blinks and at first the world is a watery mess. But then the world clears up and he can see Minseok staring at him. Minseok sighs, “Your eyes are so red that you look like you were smoking pot.”

Junmyeon turns to look into the mirror and grimaces. His left eye is especially red. He does look like he had been smoking marijuana in a closed room for five hours. Shit. He dabs around his eye area with a soft cloth. He says, “The redness will go away. Hopefully.”

“Or your date is going to think you are a pothead. Win-win.”

“Shut up.”

Junmyeon next shoos Minseok out of the bathroom to get dressed. He has decided on simple, so he wears his simple washed denims and a white sweater. He didn’t feel like dressing up for anybody’s sake. The contact lens is all Minseok’s doing. He exits the bathroom and Minseok grins and gives him a thumbs up, “I approve.”

“Shut up,” Junmyeon shakes his head and chuckles.

Minseok fluffs up a cushion and puts it behind his back as he gets comfortable on the sofa, “So I didn’t tell him what you do. So far he knows you are an artist.”

“Okay,” Junmyeon rubs his chin, “I can lie with that.”

“Why lie though? I mean, I don’t understand why.”

“It’s easy. I don’t want to tell people I draw penises to earn money. It is a tad too much to say on a first date, like ‘Hi, I am Kim Junmyeon but I publish yaoi manga under a female pseudonym, care to call me again for a second date?’”

Minseok starts guffawing out loud at that.

 

Yifan drums his long fingers impatiently on the wooden table. His ‘date’ is ten minutes late. He knows that is not too much but he doesn’t trust Luhan so he is on his toes, ready to scram if the guy creeps him out. Luhan is evil, who knows what other evil that man found and decided to set him up with.

The waitress eyes him and he finds himself blushing when he sees the silent appraisal in her eyes. Well, thank you Luhan. The waitress saunters over, hips swaying and a smirk on her pretty face (too bad he doesn’t swing that way). She drawls, “Anything I can get you?”

“Uh,” Yifan picks up the alcohol menu, “Is this wine good?”

“Yes, I would highly recommend it.” She leans closer and smiles. Yifan smiles back, hesitantly.

She leaves, hips swaying again. Right after she leaves, a short man dressed in a blue shirt and khaki pants walks to his table. Yifan raises his head and he thinks he likes the big eyes and plump lips, which turn into a heart-shaped smile as he says, “Wu Yifan?”

“Do Kyungsoo?” Yifan stands up and shakes the hand Kyungsoo extends.

“Yes,” Kyungsoo sits down. “Luhan told me to look for a guy with angry eyebrows.”

Yifan bites back the snort. Damn Luhan. He asks, “How do you know Satan’s disciple, I mean Luhan?”

“Oh, we met on a shoot. I am an art director.”

“Oh.”

“Satan’s disciple?” Kyungsoo smiles. Yifan _really_ likes that smile.

“Yep. Don’t mingle too much with him. He will ruin your life.”

Kyungsoo laughs, his eyes crinkling cutely. “I didn’t mind him much!”

Yifan is grinning along until Kyungsoo asks, “So, what do you do?”

“Uh,” Yifan pauses when the waitress returns. She looks briskly at Kyungsoo, joins the dots and puts the wine glass in front of Yifan, not before giving him a forlorn, disappointed look. “I work at a radio station in the day and at a bar at night.”

“Oh. That is an interesting choice of professions.” Kyungsoo smiles and leans forward on the table.

“Well, I like being a bartender. But I also like doing voiceover. So why not do both?”

“Oh. I see.” Kyungsoo grins.

“See what?” Yifan smiles as he sips his drink. Oh wow, the waitress was right, this red wine is good.

“You are very good-looking and you have a nice voice. Best of both worlds?”

Yifan laughs. He puts down his glass and says, “Something like that. Maybe. The tips are always nice.”

“I bet,” Kyungsoo laughs. “Shall we order?”

Yifan nods. This date wasn’t going that bad. It helps that Do Kyungsoo is the cutest man he had ever met.

Shit, Luhan really won this time, didn’t he?

 

Junmyeon is late. At least by fifteen minutes. He took a taxi but traffic was such a menace. He barges into the restaurant. He pants and tries collecting his breath. He beelines straight for the restroom. When he realises he doesn’t look worse for wear, that his red eye has gone back to normal and he no longer looks like a stoner, he exits the restroom and tries locating his date.

His eyes fall on a man with wavy dark hair in a simple grey sweater looking wistfully at nothing. He is all jawlines and cheekbones and Junmyeon prays that that it is his date. He walks over to the table and asks in Korean, “Are you Kim Jongdae?”

The man smiles, his lips curling like a cat’s, “Yes! You must be Junmyeon right? Wow, Minseok-hyung wasn’t joking.”

Junmyeon keeps smiling, albeit bemusedly, as he sits down, “What wasn’t he joking about?”

“That you are really, really cute,” Jongdae grins and Junmyeon wishes he could duck under the table and die.

Junmyeon blushes and says, “Well, Minseok often tends to exaggerate.” He picks at his cuticles, berating himself for feeling shy. This is why he refused to return to dating for so long. He is so out of the loop, and he feels completely out of his element. Like how does one flirt? Or pay compliments? Where is his manual of ‘Dating for Dummies Who Have Been (Sadly) Single After Their Break-up That Happened Three (Centuries) Years Ago’?

Jongdae puts his elbows on the table and leans forward, “I don’t think so. Anyway! I heard you are an artist! Sounds sort of exciting!”

Junmyeon looks up so fast, his neck snaps. _Fuck you Minseok_. “Nothing too exciting.” He laughs nervously, hoping Jongdae would get that he doesn’t want to talk about it.

Maybe Jongdae gets it. He smiles, “Oh, so modest. But I find it exciting nonetheless. I mean my job is boring.”

“Oh, what do you do?” Junmyeon mentally somersaults in joy when the attention shifts.

“I work in a bank, typical nine-to-five. So thrilling.” Jongdae sighs and rolls his eyes dramatically.

Junmyeon smiles, “So what thrills you?”

“Singing, I suppose. And what about you?” Jongdae’s eyes shine and Junmyeon says a silent thanks to Minseok. His date is a gorgeous human being.

“Photography. I wish I could do it more often.”

“Oh, that is nice!”

Jongdae doesn’t finish that sentence when a waiter arrives to ask if they are ready to order. Junmyeon nods and looks over at Jongdae, who nods as well. They order and when the drinks menu is served, Jongdae switches back to Korean, having ordered in Japanese, “So, are you a wine snob?”

Junmyeon laughs, “Dear lord, no! I am just a simple wine-lover.”

“Oh thank god. I was this close to making a fool out of myself. Please, please order for me.”

Junmyeon giggles at Jongdae’s pout. He orders the drinks and thinks, that yeah, he can enjoy himself tonight.

 

Yifan sighs and resists slumping over the bar counter. He is in this bar near the restaurant where he had a wonderful dinner with Kyungsoo. The dinner was going well, then dessert came but Kyungsoo had to leave because someone called the art director with an emergency. The emergency was that someone had set fire to one of his sets on a television drama, by mistake obviously. But Kyungsoo looked ready to fly into a rage fit. He managed to calm himself down and give his number to Yifan, and promised him that he will surely text when Yifan returned the favour.

He gestures at the bartender to ask for another vodka martini. He wasn’t planning on getting drunk. But somehow he finished his first drink. He wasn’t terribly upset about the date. In fact, he enjoyed Kyungsoo’s company. What got him down, and gets him wanting alcohol in his system is the fact that he is so unwilling deep down. He appreciates Luhan’s attempts to get him some excitement, but he has a phobia of attachment.

Attachments breed expectations. Expectations breeds disappointment. That is the pattern he has seen throughout his entire life. He saw his mother breaking when his father left them. He saw it happen to Luhan when he first fell in love with that Korean boy. He saw it happen to himself when he first started dating in the first year of his college. That was nine years ago and he has refrained from getting too attached to anybody. Kyungsoo seemed promising. Yifan could see himself enjoying his time with the shorter man. Yet, this unwillingness remains.

He smiles at the woman serving him as she puts the fresh drink in front of him. Out of the corner of his eyes he sees someone taking the seat next to him. The man beside him orders for whiskey neat. He turns his head to look at the man, and his jaw drops.

The man sitting beside him has to be the most attractive man he ever laid eyes on. And he has seen plenty good-looking men. The bar had adequate soft yellow lighting and the man in his white sweater and jeans glows. Yifan is having a hard time looking away. The guy has black hair, with bangs sweeping over soft eyebrows and what has Yifan’s throat dry is the small pink lips that are pursed, as if he had experienced something sad before coming here.

If he was really cool, not just on the surface, like deep down a cool person, he would have initiated conversation. But he isn’t, he is a classified dork and only looks menacing thanks to his supermodel proportions. So he decides to ogle like some common creep.

The man turns his head around and deadpans, “Unless I sprouted another head or I still look like a stoner, can I ask why are you staring?”

Really pretty eyes blink at him and Yifan realises the man is pale, too pale, but he is like porcelain-fragile pale. So it is kind of even more appealing. Wait, Yifan, focus, the man said something. Yifan remembers hearing a few words coming out of that practice-kissing-on-mouth, “Stoner?”

“Contacts,” the man shrugs and points at his eyes.  Then he downs the thirty millilitre whiskey in his glass in one gulp. He doesn’t even flinch. Whiskey burns bad, everyone knows.

Yifan gapes at that. He whistles, “Whoa, slow down there.”

“Nope. I love whiskey. Don’t you love whiskey?”

“I am a more vodka guy.”

The man’s face twists in disgrace. He hisses, “Eww, vodka is like for amateurs and wannabes. And soccer moms.”

Yifan gasps and scoots closer. He peers at the man, “Excuse me?”

“I hate vodka. Like, with a vengeance.”

“What did vodka ever do to you?”

“It tastes like nothing!” The man flails his hands and orders for another drink simultaneously.

“Oh my god, where is your adventure? Vodka is the most accommodating drink. It tastes great with anything!”

The man reels and says, “My sense of adventure? You don’t even know me!”

A second passes before they both start laughing. Yifan smiles, “I am Wu Yifan by the way.” He extends one large (yaoi) hand.

“Kim Junmyeon,” the man takes and shakes the hand. He feels how wonderfully warm and soft Yifan’s hands are. He looks down on them and snickers mentally. _Yaoi hands_. Does Yifan know?

Yifan watches how small and slender Junmyeon’s hand is, and how seamlessly it fit into his. Junmyeon retracts his hand as Yifan asks, “So can I ask why are you here drinking whiskey like a champion?”

“I had a date.” Junmyeon slumps down a little, the frown on his makes Yifan a bit curious.

“That bad?”

“Nope. He was a gentleman.” Yifan mentally dances at the mention of ‘he’. Junmyeon seems to realise what he said. He eyes him cautiously, “If you cannot tell, I am not straight.”

Yifan laughs, “If it makes you feel okay, I had a date too, with a guy.”

“Oh.” Junmyeon nods, feeling pleased and looks at the finished martini. He points at it, “So was your date bad then?”

Yifan grins and shakes his head, “Nope. It wasn’t bad at all. He was very nice.”

Junmyeon hums and sips his drink. “What the fuck are we doing here then?”

Yifan looks at him and thinks as he rubs his lower lip. So far he is finding it easy to talk to Junmyeon (alarmingly easy, in fact), a random stranger. He says, “I have problems with attachments.”

“Ah…do you know what I did though?” Junmyeon narrows his eyes and whispers like it is a great conspiracy.

Yifan plays along and leans closer. “What?”

“Said I had an important meeting tomorrow when he kissed me on my cheeks and promptly ran like a champion.”

Yifan laughs again. Junmyeon lightly hits him on his arms. Yifan says, “At least you got a kiss. Mine had to scram because someone set fire at his workplace.”

“Holy shit.” Junmyeon laughs.

“So why did you scram if your date was wonderful?”

“This was my first date in three years.” Junmyeon finishes his drink.

“Oh. Out of practice?”

“Very fucking much so.”

They order third rounds. The alcohol is nicely buzzing in their systems. When their drinks arrive, Yifan says, “Hey? Do you wanna go somewhere? Somewhere fun? You seem as if you require some fun.” He pats himself mentally for getting the words out even though he is sweating because that took effort. A lot of effort to sound cool. And he wanted to sound cool because Junmyeon is interesting him like nothing. He doesn’t want their time to be cut short for some weird reason.

Junmyeon chews on an ice-cube. He swallows and forgets his reply when he notices Yifan staring at his lips. _Oh_.

Junmyeon had entered this establishment because it was the closest to the restaurant he was in, on his date with Jongdae. It was going well, they exchanged numbers. But then Jongdae pecked him chastely on his cheek and he panicked. Too fast, too soon (even though he heard Minseok screeching in his head, “Three years Junmyeon, three fucking years!”)

So he ended up here. He did notice the tall guy sitting at the counter and he nearly slipped because wow damn that is an attractive face. Like holy fucking shit. He surreptitiously eyed him, taking in those long, sinful legs in skinny black jeans and the casually tousled brown hair, and wondered if the guy was a model or something (and could he take pictures because the _size_ of those hands, he can draw him in his next manga or something—yeah his interests were all artistic, obviously). And that leather jacket just amplified the overall image. Junmyeon is interested.

Junmyeon skin heats up as Yifan stares down at those lips pursed in an O shape. He cannot draw away his gaze. However, he is forced to when Junmyeon says, “Fun place? You aren’t a serial killer are you, whose definition of fun place means his basement where he keeps all his victim’s mementos?”

Yifan grins and tilts his head to a side, “Really? Serial killer?”

“Them eyebrows scream dangerous.”

“Rest assured, my friends tell me I am as dangerous as a new-born rabbit.”

Junmyeon says, “I like rabbits.” Then he blushes when he regrets his choice of words. Way to go Kim Junmyeon.

Yifan hears that and grins, no longer able to hold his ‘ugly smile’ (Luhan’s words) which consists of him showing all his gums.

Junmyeon raises an eyebrow when he sees that gummy smile. It drastically changes his face. He no longer looked threatening. It is kind of…cute and very appealing. He thinks his heart just skipped a beat. And Junmyeon feels adventurous now. So he gulps down his remaining drink, says fuck it in his mind and says out loud, “Okay let’s go!”

 

Tokyo is a fantastic place. One can never tire of options in this vibrant metropolis. Junmyeon wasn’t born here but he has been here since he learnt how to walk when his parents moved here for his work. Ever since he had been in love with his adopted city. The vibrancy and the extravagance is an inspiration. He thrives in the hustle and bustle. He couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. Tokyo is his home.

The same is for Yifan, but in lesser degrees. He had been moving across the globe for too long. He was born in China, then had to move to Canada. Then he spent two years of his high school in Korea where he had the (mis)fortune of meeting Luhan. Then he came to Japan for college. And he likes it best here.

He couldn’t find a place in China where his relatives kept sneering at his mother for having a baby out of wedlock (she did marry his father later). He couldn’t be completely at home in Canada because of the language barrier at first, but then when he started to get comfortable, his father walked out on his mother and his mother moved to Seoul with a sixteen-year-old Yifan in tow. The language barrier was the most staggering there. But he had Luhan with him. Learning Japanese wasn’t hard, so his college life was okay. He realised he only felt at home here. China stifled him, Canada is a bittersweet memory and Korea feels lonely. In Japan, out of sight of everyone he knows, gives him a kind of freedom he could never find elsewhere.

Like the freedom of running, limbs exerting over their limit as he runs, small hand wrapped tightly in his larger ones. They are running down a flight of stairs to the subway. They only have three minutes till the train left for Ikebukuro.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Yifan huffs as his long legs pump hard to get closer to the platform. They are a few paces away. They are so close.

“Fuck is an understatement!” Junmyeon cries behind him.

Junmyeon is short and Yifan is a giant. Since Junmyeon couldn’t keep up with Yifan’s huge strides, the taller grabbed his hand and started running and dragging him along like some ragdoll. Right now, he is dying. And he is sure he wasn’t even running, more like flying thanks to Yifan dragging him, his large hand securely holding him. In his mind, he sees a manga panel where the best friend of the protagonist would drag the protagonist and he would be horizontally drawn, with lines to depict motion. He snaps out of his imaginary scene as Yifan skids to a halt. He crashes face first into Yifan’s (sexy) broad back, his lips pressing hard on to the black leather. Yifan doesn’t say anything as he grabs Junmyeon by the wrist and pushes him forward into the night crowd, comprised of high school students returning from cram school and salarymen and women returning from their work after pulling overtime. There are also some college students strewn about with impressive dark circles and bags under their eyes. Junmyeon tuts, exam season is here after all. He doesn’t miss _those_ days. He hears the doors sliding close. He feels Yifan taking a stand behind him and hears him panting.

The car is impossibly crowded. They haven’t moved much from the door. Yifan stands beside the door and Junmyeon finds himself leaning against him, unconsciously. He didn’t have much space anyway. He finds his back lightly pressed against a solid, warm chest and his heart does the whole skipping thing like some heroine of a shoujo manga. _What the fuck_.

Yifan is a good foot taller than Junmyeon, he realises. He can see the top of Junmyeon’s head, the soft black hair smelling like cherries. Junmyeon drops his head to check something on his phone and Yifan notes how pale and slender his neck is. He licks his lips thinking what would happen if he kissed that neck. Then he punches his own face mentally, because he has never lusted after someone on first sight. Suddenly, the car stops and a crowd of students make their way for the door, pushing Junmyeon further into him in the process. Yifan gets the air knocked out of him but his hand juts out to encase Junmyeon, who is stumbling a little.

Junmyeon is trying to find his balance as this pink haired girl steps on his shoes. He is staggering when he feels a muscular arm snaking around his front. He looks down and feels Yifan’s warm breath on his neck which results the minute hair there stand up. His own hand reaches up and grabs the thick forearm. Yifan asks, “You okay?”

Junmyeon twists his head to the side and stops breathing at the proximity. Yifan is too close, Junmyeon can count his eyelashes or, alternatively, drown in those deep pupils. His eyes travel down the high nose to those full lips (while his soul screeches at how fucking sexy this man is), and he has a hard time finding his voice when he replies, “Yeah. I am okay.” His own voice sounds ridiculous in his ears. It is so faint and he wonders if Yifan could hear the obvious shake in it.

Yifan watches Junmyeon looking at his lips. He smirks (he is aware he is an attractive man). Junmyeon finally realises he grabbed his hand, so he releases it and moves away, now that the car is a lot emptier. He even finds two empty seats. He sits down and pats the seat beside him, smiling at Yifan.

Yifan smiles back and sits down beside Junmyeon. He asks, “So, stranger, tell me about you.”

Junmyeon nervously laughs. Here he is again. By now, he knows how to smoothly lie. “I am an artist. An illustrator really. What about you?”

Yifan chuckles, feeling the ye old apprehension setting in. “I work at a broadcasting company. And five days a week, I am a bartender.”

“Oh, that is very cool!”

“But you definitely have the cooler job. I wish I could draw.” Yifan frowns.

Junmyeon grins, “Are you that bad?”

Yifan grins, “My best friend has told me that I shouldn’t try drawing again for the sake of world peace.”

Junmyeon eyes widen and he says, his voice completely devoid of any judgement, just amusement, “You can’t be that bad.”

“Wait,” Yifan says as he takes his phone out of his pocket. He unlocks his phone and after tapping for a while, he finally finds what he is looking for. “Here. My friend compiled all my drawings, and then made a video of it.”

Junmyeon takes the phone and bites his lips to stop himself from laughing. The video consists of a stick figure with Yifan’s head edited on it and a train of weirdly drawn animals trailing behind him. Junmyeon is positively dying at the animals. They have to be the worst drawings of animals he has ever seen.

Yifan rolls his eyes at Junmyeon’s obvious attempt to not insult him. He says, “Go ahead, you can laugh.”

Junmyeon breaks. He laughs so loud that a woman across them looks at him in shock. There are tears in his eyes and his sides hurt. He says, in between taking breaths, “That is the most, I mean, wow, I have no words, sorry.” He hands Yifan back his phone, still giggling like a madman. “Your skills…are exceptional.”

Yifan snorts and pockets his phone. He pokes Junmyeon’s side and says, “True art is not for amateurs.”

Junmyeon stops and smiles kindly at him. He finds himself liking Yifan a little. Yifan is a good sport if he makes fun of his lack of talent and keeps a video like that saved on his phone. Then, Junmyeon panics a bit when he realises that he just admitted to himself that he _likes_ Yifan. Whoa, hold up, he has never been infatuated this fast. It is slightly concerning.

Junmyeon shakes his head. To steer himself away from his weird thoughts, he asks, “How old are you by the way? I need to be informed if you are some forty-year-old man with exceptional make-up skills.”

Yifan guffaws. “I will have you I don’t know the difference between a concealer and a primer, no matter how much my friend tries to educate me. I am twenty-six by the way.”

“Oh. You are older than me by a year.” Then to provide the dramatic effect that no one wanted, Junmyeon presses his hand over his chest and sighs. It seems to work on Yifan, who grins. Junmyeon grins back. “Your friend is a make-up artist?”

“No, he is a model. He knows all this stuff and he thinks it is fun to tell me all this, when I am clearly not interested.”

Junmyeon’s lower lip juts out as he nods. “I know. My friend owns a café and he thinks it is fun to educate me about the various types of tea leaves when I am more of a coffee drinker.” His phone starts ringing and he looks down to see it is Minseok. “Speak of the devil.” He had been conversing with Yifan in Japanese all this while. He switches to Korean, “Hello…yeah, I am okay…I am off to Ikebukuro…why? Adonis asked me to go with him…no, not Jongdae, this other ridiculously hot guy I met in a bar…oh god, I will tell you everything later…just go…bye!”

Yifan listens to the conversation with a smirk. Junmyeon doesn’t know that he had spent two years in Korea and he speaks the language very well. “Ridiculously hot guy”? Then Junmyeon is as stupidly attracted as he was. That is very, very good to know. Yifan grins, keeping his knowledge of the Korean language to himself.

 

They end up in a karaoke bar on Sunshine Street. There is alcohol (too much of it) and Junmyeon and Yifan find themselves swept up in a small group of Chinese students, who had come to vacation in Tokyo before they separate and head for different colleges.  Yifan’s proficiency in Mandarin and Japanese landed them with this group of three girls and four guys. Junmyeon was sort of amazed at Yifan’s bilingual skills. He is bilingual himself, but Mandarin was one language he didn’t want to touch, even with a ten feet pole, because of its sheer learning difficulty. Even though his works are popular in China and sometimes he comes across Mandarin doujinshis of his work, he still looks on in complete confusion (and terror because his sex scenes are bland compared to how a seventeen-year-old draws such scenes in fanfictions).

He says as Yifan talks to this guy named Xuedong, “You speak Mandarin and Japanese, that is like, so cool.”

Yifan smirks, and picks up his beer bottle to take a long gulp. “I also spent a lot of time in Canada.”

Junmyeon’s eyes widen. Now Yifan is trilingual. He knows enough English, but he cannot imagine using that language comfortably. He whispers, “So fucking cool.”

Yifan laughs, “Thanks! No one calls me cool anymore.”

Junmyeon closes his eyes and pats Yifan on his back, “There, there, old man.”

Yifan leans closer and narrows his eyes, “Who you calling old?”

Junmyeon grins as he brings a bottle to his lips. He won’t try to deny—he is having fun with Yifan on this “adventure”. They had ended up at Ikebukuro with no idea as to how to spend their time. So they had entered a book café because Junmyeon felt like cake. Turned out, Yifan could give him competition in the sweet tooth department as the tall man himself scarfed down two slices of cheesecake. Junmyeon then spotted one of his earlier works on the shelf on sale and felt like a criminal for a moment for lying to Yifan, but got over that quickly.

Then they stumbled across the seven tourists who seemed lost. Yifan realised they were talking in Mandarin and offered to help. Somehow, Junmyeon and Yifan became pseudo-tourist guides as they showed them all over Ikebukuro. They ended up in Otome Road where Junmyeon and Yifan had a very strange (read: uncomfortable) conversation.

It all started when Junmyeon and Yifan overheard this young girl telling her best friend, “Kim Ji-n will have something new by the end of this year! Aren’t you excited? I loved her last manga.”

Junmyeon ended up eavesdropping, feeling quite smug at the praise until he realised Yifan was looking at him funny. He asked, “What?”

“Are you this Kim Ji-n’s fan? You are eavesdropping,” Yifan shrugs.

“So are you.”

“Yeah but.”

“Nah, I don’t care about manga or animes much.” _Lies, such lies_.

“Yeah. I haven’t been swept up it either.” Yifan felt his soul shrinking in disappointment.

“Hmm.”

Thankfully, the awkward tension dissipated when Junmyeon noticed that one of the girls, Mohan, was being duped by a shopkeeper. He and Yifan jumped in to rescue her.

Then they ended up here in this karaoke/bar where they were both on their second bottles of beer. Junmyeon is lost in his thoughts when he feels someone’s intense gaze on him. He turns to his right to see Yifan staring at him. He asks, “What?”

“You have three moles on your neck,” Yifan says and places one cold finger on Junmyeon’s neck. He uses his finger to draw a line, connecting the three moles. “And they are almost at the same plane. Like if I took a marker and joined the dots, I mean moles, it’d be like a line. That would be such a stupid tattoo though.”

Junmyeon skin jumps wherever Yifan touched. Even though he met Yifan four hours ago, and he would be otherwise annoyed if someone touched him, and invaded his private space, he doesn’t mind Yifan touching him, his long fingers tracing a line on the side of his neck, below his ear. It is a sensitive area and he feels goose bumps erupting on his arms. But that is not the only problem. Yifan is staring at him, his gaze kind of sending him all sorts of mixed signals. Or maybe Junmyeon’s radar is jammed.

Two more fingers join and Yifan lightly brushes his neck, all the while holding Junmyeon’s gaze. Yifan finds the skin under his fingertips is as soft as it promised him four hours ago in that bar. It is somewhere after midnight now and Yifan gets a crazy idea.

Junmyeon gulps, and something akin to desire skitters down his spine when he sees Yifan looking down at his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. The kids are busy mispronouncing popular J-pop songs. Yifan and Junmyeon are tucked at the very corner of their reserved room. Junmyeon says, quietly, as soon as he realises his brain might melt after this, “You like tattoos?”

“I got four of them,” Yifan says, his voice dropping octaves lower, and Junmyeon knows no amount of water can quench his thirst as he feels his throat going dry at that deep voice. He hoods his eyes and leans a little bit closer. Junmyeon clutches the bottle in his grip so hard, he is amazed it didn’t break. “Do you—”

Yifan wanted to, frankly, take Junmyeon back with him to his home and kiss those moles. But he gets rudely interrupted when this other kid, Xie, shouts, “Ge! Do you want to sing now?”

Moment destroyed. Yifan moves away and gets up to join the kids. Junmyeon never got to hear that question. He knew Yifan was going to darkly promise him something. And it surprises him, that he would have said yes to it. He takes a long drink from his bottle, trying to cool himself down. Never, ever has he been so affected by anyone. His skin itched and his mind wandered, wondering how Yifan looked underneath that all-black ensemble. Probably awesome.

Yifan takes the mike and blindly chooses a song. Holy shit that was close! He almost said “Do you want to see them?” So cool Wu Yifan, he can hear Luhan’s annoying voice in his head. Then what? Was he expecting Junmyeon to say yes? Looking back, he is pretty sure he was going to be rejected. And Junmyeon had every right to reject him. After all, they only met a few hours ago. But his mind keeps thinking if the rest of Junmyeon is just as flawless.

It is only when the first chords play that Yifan realises he had chosen a Infinite song. He loves Infinite and he loves _The Chaser_. He starts singing, not even needing the lyrics on the screen because he already knows them by heart. Sungyeol is a dreamboat as far as he is concerned.

The kids get excited and cheer him on as he starts singing. Lang, a girl in the group, shouts that he got a nice voice (he knows, he is an accomplished bathroom singer). Soon he hits the last chorus, and ends with a well-rounded, “Mianhae ma dokhage nal beorigo ddeonado dwae! Niga wonhandamyeon geurae good bye! Heona nae mamkkaji jeobeungeon anya…”

The group erupts in cheers and claps, and pats on his back. He is all gummy smiles and flushed cheeks when he turns around to look at Junmyeon, who is sitting with his eyes wide and mouth hanging open. He says, “You know Korean…” He can tell, because Yifan’s pronunciation was perfect. Like a native speaker’s.

Yifan smirks, “Spend two years in Seoul.” His grin gets wider when he sees Junmyeon’s face turning red. “And thanks for saying nice things to your friend.” He even has the audacity to wink.

Junmyeon rises to his feet and weakly says, “Gotta pee.” Then he runs for the bathroom. He had to relieve his bladder, but most importantly he had to hyperventilate because now Yifan knows that he finds the taller “ridiculously hot”.

He locks the door to the stall and takes a few deep breaths. Fuck. Yifan is a wizard. He knows four languages. Junmyeon doesn’t feel safe. Maybe next he will learn that Yifan can read minds. Wait, is that him talking or the three pegs of whiskey and two bottles of strong beer talking? He hears someone enter, so he quickly finishes his business and unlocks the door. He comes face-to-face with Yifan, looking sheepish.

Yifan says, “I am sorry. I feel like I deeply offended you or something.”

Junmyeon washes his hands and shakes his head. He looks at Yifan’s reflection in the mirror. He says, “I am not offended Yifan. I am just surprised and ashamed that you had to hear that.” His cheeks get red and he curses his pale skin for the nth time in his life.

“Why?” Yifan grins as he crosses his arms and tries to look cool, “I do think I am hot. I even agree with you.”

Junmyeon laughs and turns around. “Has anyone told you are an idiot?”

Yifan laughs along, “I only look cool, I am aware.” He likes the way Junmyeon’s eyes become crescents of unfiltered joy when he laughs like that.

Junmyeon mocks being shocked, “That self-awareness though. Wow.”

Yifan shakes his head and Junmyeon thinks Yifan looks very adorable smiling like this. A dip in the line. His heart does the skipping thing. _Again_.

 

Two in the morning finds Yifan and Junmyeon on their own as they had said their goodbyes to the nice kids from China a few minutes ago. The alcohol in their blood makes them both a bit tipsy but not completely drunk. A pleasant warmth that simmered low in their system. It also made Junmyeon very brave to hold Yifan’s large hand as they walk towards the station. Junmyeon had bought a stick of fried dumplings five minutes ago and passes it on to Yifan, who opens his mouth and Junmyeon proceeds to feed him.

Junmyeon sighs and puts his head on Yifan’s arm. Yifan lets him. The streets were empty but not so much. There are still a whole lot of late-night revellers searching for a party or a quick fuck, who knows. There is a certain intimacy in the open space with buzzing voices and interesting smells. Junmyeon softly says, “I had fun stranger.”

Yifan chuckles. They are at the entrance to the station. He looks down at Junmyeon, who peers at him expectedly. “Same stranger.” Yifan thinks that this had to be the best impulsive decision he had ever made. Not even the impulsive tattoo on his back could compete anymore.

Junmyeon finishes eating and throws the stick in a nearby trash can. Yifan still holds his hand and Junmyeon is okay with that. He feels nice. There is a pleasant shiver running down his back. The train arrives soon after and they enter the car, hands not releasing each other.

The car is empty besides this one man asleep at the very end. They sit down and Yifan puts their interlocked hands on his thigh. He looks down and rubs gentle circles on Junmyeon’s skin. Yifan is surprised Junmyeon doesn’t stop him, or take away his hand. In fact, he seems to relax some more and leans against Yifan. A blanket of comfort encased them. It amazed them both how at ease they were with other considering the fact that they met only today. Yifan goes out of his way to avoid people and Junmyeon isn’t great with new people. But this wasn’t unwelcome. Junmyeon and Yifan are, simply speaking, enjoying themselves.

Junmyeon rubs his cheek on the soft leather. He mutters, “I should invest in a leather jacket. Everything is cooler in a leather jacket.”

Yifan grins, “I have to agree with that.”

Junmyeon tilts his head up and smiles, “You are pretty cool too.”

“My best friend would agree to disagree with that.”

Junmyeon laughs, his eyes crinkling in the way that Yifan has started to really like. “Well, you are a dork too, but that is okay.”

“Yeah?” Yifan wonders why his heart lurched like that at Junmyeon’s words.

Junmyeon nods his head. “Yup. I am plenty embarrassing too.”

“You are plenty cute too so I guess the embarrassing parts balance out.” Yifan is taken aback by his own boldness.

A flush creeps up Junmyeon’s cheeks and Yifan has to fight the urge to pinch them. Junmyeon says, “You are still hot despite being a dork. Balanced.”

Yifan nods and smiles. “I guess we are both good at maintaining a fake image.” His eyes fall on Junmyeon’s lips again and before he can stop himself, he leans down and lightly presses his lips against Junmyeon’s. _Soft_.

Yifan pulls back immediately, regretting his idiocy as he fumbles, “Oh gosh, I am so—”

Junmyeon wasn’t ready for the gentle touch of Yifan’s plump lips. But when it did happen, and Yifan tracked back, he finds himself wanting to know more of that feel. He sits up straight and says, cutting Yifan off, “Do it again.”

Yifan halts and his eyes widen. But he does as he is told. He leans back in and slots his lips against Junmyeon’s.

Junmyeon makes a low noise of approval (or need, who knows) as his eyes close and his fingers grab unto leather lapels. He pulls Yifan close and licks along the seam of Yifan’s lips. That has Yifan groaning as his hand comes to rest on Junmyeon’s nape. He tugs at the hair there and opens his mouth, letting Junmyeon in.

A keen ripple of excitement runs along Junmyeon’s body as their tongues meet in a heated tangle. It is Junmyeon’s turn to groan. He moves sideways and Yifan drags him on his lap, putting Junmyeon’s legs across his thighs.

Yifan had been waiting to taste those lips and fuck the wait was worth it. He moans when Junmyeon teeth graze his lower lip and proceeds to bite. Yifan pulls back and sucks on Junmyeon’s lower lip. The frantic fingers in his hair pull, the tug almost painful and Yifan groans. His entire body hums in pleasure.

Junmyeon feels Yifan’s body humming. Yifan kisses along his jawline, then moves down, towards his neck and finds the sensitives area under his ear. Junmyeon shivers and a shameless mewl drops from his mouth when Yifan bites right there. Junmyeon’s blunt nails leave prominent red lines on Yifan’s neck in retaliation.

Yifan alternates between sucking and biting as he paints that irresistible skin red. Junmyeon’s nails on his neck spurs him on as he licks further and reaches the base of Junmyeon’s throat.

Too much, too little, Junmyeon thinks. He whimpers as he pulls Yifan’s hair. The taller detaches himself from Junmyeon’s neck. His eyes are so intense that it gets Junmyeon breathless. Junmyeon says nothing as he dives in for another scorching kiss. Gosh, Yifan’s lips are perfect. He bites at the corner of Yifan’s lips and sucks on his bite. Yifan’s deep growl has him feeling very satisfied. Next, Yifan has his tongue back in his mouth, just as he wants it.

Junmyeon leans back and pants when he feels lightheaded. Yifan looks at him, dazed and his gaze is dark which has Junmyeon shivering. They exhale in the small space between them, hot air fanning over each other’s saliva-slick lips as what they did crashes over them.

Making out with strangers is decidedly not the status quo. No matter how hot or attractive said stranger is.

Junmyeon stares with wide eyes as Yifan’s gaze loses its heated sheen and becomes befuddled. He opens his mouth to say something when the announcer’s voice blasts through the speaker, “Next stop, Shin-Okubo.”

Somewhere in his fused conscious, Junmyeon realises he lives in Shin-Okubo, right. He quickly gets up from Yifan’s lap and stumbles backwards. Yifan stands up too, just as the train halts to a stop. Junmyeon mutters weakly, “This is my stop. Good night.”

He doesn’t wait for Yifan to respond as the doors slide open and he runs towards the platform. He hears the doors slide close. He turns around and sees Yifan looking lost through the glass windows. Junmyeon just stands there until the train pulls out of the platform, an obvious realisation dawning on him.

It is only when the train moves away that Yifan realises that he didn’t even get Junmyeon’s number. On the empty station, Junmyeon realises the same.

 _Shit_.


	2. WHERE CROSS CONNECTIONS ARE ANNOYING

Junmyeon yawns as he wakes up near lunchtime. He came home late last night and couldn’t sleep for another two hours because of one tall Chinese guy. He couldn’t believe _he_ did all that, that too with a man he hardly knew. But damn, all of that was so good. He didn’t regret anything. Heck, if he could he would do it again. Except this time, he would take Yifan’s number first. Then proceed to kiss the fuck out of him.

He saunters in his bathroom and grins at the marks on his neck. Yifan bit him on the moles that fascinated him. A shiver runs down his arms as he remembers how _that_ felt. He rubs his hand over the marks and a blush creeps up on his face when he remembers how desperate he was, how willing he was. He has never acted like that. It is like Yifan showed him a new side to him he never knew could exist with his gentle and introverted demeanour.

However, then he starts feeling guilty when he thinks he should be feeling something like that for Jongdae instead.

Jongdae is the one he should have wanted to kiss, not Yifan. He groans and picks up his phone. There are multiple messages from Jongdae.

 **Jongdae**  
Hey good morning!  
06-05, 9.05

 **Jongdae**  
You aren’t awake yet? :(  
06-05, 10.05

 **Jongdae**  
I had fun yesterday. I was wondering if I could see you again  
?  
06-05, 10.30

 **Jongdae**  
Junmyeon, are you okay?  
06-05, 11.00

 **Jongdae**  
Okay, you are scaring me. I told Minseok-hyung that you are nonresponsive.  
06-05, 11.45

Fuck, Junmyeon is a despicable human being. He deserves to be flung into the deepest circle of hell. He groans again and taps the phone against his temple. He hurriedly types out a message.

 **Junmyeon**  
Hey, sorry I didn’t reply. I just woke up now. I am so sorry for worrying you. And yes, I would like to see you again. I am so, so sorry! I swear I am fine. I just overslept!  
06-05, 12.15

As if on cue, he hears the lock to his front door opening. Must be Minseok, he has a spare key. Then he hears Minseok shouting, “Junmyeon! Are you okay?”

Junmyeon slumps down on his bed and says, “In the bedroom!”

Minseok barges in and pants, “Are you okay? Do you have a fever?” He comes closer and touches Junmyeon’s forehead. He finds it cool but his eyes fall on his bruises on his neck. He cocks an eyebrow at that. “What are those?” He wriggles his eyebrows, “Nice time with Jongdae? I didn’t take you for making out on the first date.”

Junmyeon removes the hand from his forehead and sighs, “They are not from Jongdae.”

Minseok gasps and looks at Junmyeon scandalously. He whispers, “What? Oh my god Kim Junmyeon, you harlot!”

Junmyeon bites his lips. _Yifan bit his lips, he can still taste him on his lips_. Oh god, focus. He sighs again, “I met this guy. You know the ridiculously hot guy I told you about.”

“Yeah, then you cut the call. Who was it and why did you make out with him, if I am correct in assuming that he was the one responsible for them love bites?” Minseok wriggles his eyebrows again. Junmyeon frowns at that.

Junmyeon sighs again and gets to the story. Minseok looks at him in utter shock. He has known his friend for too long and this is insanity because he never thought Junmyeon would do something like that…impulsive and instantaneous weren’t how anyone would describe his best friend. Junmyeon finishes his wild tale with another sigh. Minseok chuckles, “I can’t believe you didn’t take his number!”

Junmyeon pouts, “Don’t remind me.” His shoulders droop and he feels like punching himself in his face.

Minseok starts laughing. He is just too amused.

Junmyeon semi-glares at him, his mind still reeling at the decisions he took last night. If he was religious, he would fall to his knees and beg to meet Yifan again (and maybe finish what they started...oh my god, Minseok is right, he is a harlot). He has never felt like a bigger idiot before this. His face falls when Minseok asks, “What about Jongdae then?”

He jumps in his own skin when Minseok throws him this question. He knows that he cannot wait around for another golden chance, and he didn’t mind Jongdae. He wants to give Jongdae another try. Yifan is a far-fetched dream at the moment, he rather stick to reality. He mutters, “I am going to see him again.”

 

Minseok likes his work. He owns the most popular tea house in Shin-Okubo. His business flourishes because he ensures a good balance of teas for sophisticated palates and layman tastes alike (he didn’t want to introduce bubble tea but thanks to the hallyu-wave in Japan and the immense concentration of Koreans in this neighbourhood of Shinjuku, he had to relent for his business’s sake). He would never deny that he is the biggest tea snob in the world. If you confuse your Darjeeling with Assam, he will not hesitate to strangle you.

His tea house also doubles up as a bakery and coffee shop, but only from seven in the morning to noon. After that don’t ask him for coffee—he will try to strangle you again. He is always the first to show up to open the shop. Always ten minutes after his second-in-command, Sorachi Karuho, arrives, yawning and trying to fix her waist-length inky black hair. They went to management school together, Minseok was a year ahead of her. He says, “Good morning Karuho.”

“Morning Min-chan.” Another yawn. Minseok chuckles as he starts the coffee machine. He doesn’t drink much coffee but he knows how to make a good cup of double shot espresso. He prepares one for Karuho, like he has been doing every day for the last three years. He gets himself some hot water to make himself a cup of green tea.

Karuho smiles as she takes her drink. She says, “Oh! I saw Jongdae yesterday at the station. He said he was going on a date with your friend. I was surprised.”

Minseok frowns, “Why were you surprised?”

“I thought, you know, he seemed pretty sweet on you last year. I thought you were the one he had a crush on.”

Minseok chuckles dryly. He feels a thorn prickling his side. He knew that Jongdae liked him. Jongdae even admitted so, but Minseok turned him down. He thinks Jongdae is a terrific human being but Minseok is an expert at messing up relationships. He has stayed away from all sort of romantic attachments for the last eight years. His last relationship failed epically all thanks to him and him alone, his ex-boyfriend was perfect. And he was stressed that he would mess things up with Jongdae too because Jongdae is nice and Minseok may have liked him fleetingly.

But that was a long time ago. It is all water under the bridge. That is why he thought of setting Junmyeon and Jongdae up. Judging from the texts he got last night, Jongdae liked Junmyeon. He felt relieved, even though an annoying little thorn prickled him all night long. More like a princess and the pea situation, where he was sleeping on layers of mattresses, but he could still feel that singular pea. Analogies, Kim Minseok is good at them.

The door opens and in walks their regular customer. Oh Sehun—tall, lanky and always over-tired— entered the establishment with a yawn that could give Karuho a run for her money. Minseok says nothing as he starts preparing the usual order of a large Americano for the young student. He says, “Good morning Sehun.”

“Morning hyung,” Sehun leans against the counter and rubs his face,

Karuho tuts at the dark circles, all too prominent on Sehun’s peachy complexion. She rubs his shoulders sympathetically. Sehun came to Japan three years ago to study mechanical engineering and has been coming here since then. By now, he is the unofficially adopted brother of Minseok and Karuho. They have seen him here way too many times—in the mornings for coffee, sometimes in the afternoons for a bubble tea, sometimes in the evenings with a date at times for matcha and as exam seasons get near, at nights too where he is the only one Minseok will make coffee for, that too on the house; and Karuho will sneak him baked goods. Sehun appreciates his adopted family very much.

Sehun leans into Karuho’s touch and whines, “Why does my professor think it is fun to schedule classes at ass thirty in the morning?”

“Exams will come and go Sehun-kun,” Karuho smiles.

“I am dying.”

“So dramatic,” Minseok hands him the coffee as Sehun hands him the right amount of money. Minseok even passes a huge chocolate chip cookie along with the Styrofoam cup, on the house, as usual.

Sehun shrugs, “When I die, you two are going to miss me. Thanks hyung.” He pouts petulantly as he walks out, lazily waving at Minseok and Karuho who smile and shake their heads at him.

Customers come and go, and soon it is twelve. Minseok closes the coffee counter after serving a girl with a thick law textbook in her hand. Minseok was lightly concerned as to how the girl didn’t topple over at the weight because she was tiny. This is why he had refused to go anywhere near legal studies when his mother, a former lawyer, tried to coax him in that direction. Something about studying books heavier than him horrifies him.

Minseok realises his phone is ringing. He picks it up to see it is Jongdae calling. A smile creeps up on his face anyway. He takes the call, “Hello?”

“Hyung! Can you go and check on Junmyeon? I think something is wrong with him!” Jongdae says.

Minseok needn’t be told twice. He disconnects and shouts at Karuho that he is leaving. He rushes over to Junmyeon’s place.

When he reaches his best friend’s house to find him fit and fine (with ridiculous love bites decorating his neck), and Junmyeon tells him his interesting experience, he laughs. It is amusing, but then he finds himself asking, “What about Jongdae then?”

Junmyeon startles. He mutters, “I am going to see him again.”

Minseok scowls. “You sure?”

“Yeah. I mean I cannot wait forever for another chance to meet Yifan again. It will require divine intervention and I am not the most religious person alive. Jongdae is nice, I like his smile and I am open to get to know him more.” Junmyeon smiles as he picks at his fingernails.

Minseok takes a deep breath. That is good news. Junmyeon is back at torturing his cuticles, which means he is feeling shy about it. When Junmyeon is like this, Minseok knows he is being sincere. He softly says, “He looks like a cat when he smiles.”

Junmyeon grins, “Yeah he does!”

Minseok smiles, glad that his two friends seem to like each other. This is a good thing. Yes. Yet he still feels a little like that princess from that tale.

 

Luhan wonders why Yifan has been ignoring him since his date with Kyungsoo on Saturday. He thought they hit it off when he received a positive text from Kyungsoo on Sunday morning. So what now? It has been a week of Yifan dodging his texts and calls. Luhan might be slightly annoyed with his friend.

“Luhan, we are ready!” an assistant calls. Luhan looks at the make-up artist hovering around his face. He is doing a Vogue photoshoot today with none other than supermodel Kiko Mizuhara. The make-up artist adds her finishing touches and nods her head for Luhan to take his leave.

He steps on the set and spots Kyungsoo straightaway. It is kind of hard to miss the short Korean man dressed in all black today. Kyungsoo was in deep discussion with the photographer. He looks up at Luhan and nods his head. Luhan nods back. They were strictly professionals on sets. They hardly ever behaved like friends while working, even if they belonged to the same agency.

Luhan next greets Kiko and is trying not to be a fanboy. She is as stunning as he thought her to be. She smiles at him and they introduce each other. Right after, the photographer calls for the shoot to begin. Luhan and Kiko start the first set.

After thirty minutes, Luhan is ushered to the changing rooms for the second set. They give him this stunning white lace shirt to wear that he considers stealing for half a second. The hair stylist fixes his casually-but-not-really messed up purple hair and he is off. But Kiko hasn’t finished dressing yet, so he waits by the refreshment table.

Kyungsoo strolls over to where Luhan is standing. He says, “I like the look they gave you today.”

Luhan grimaces, “I hardly got any make-up on.”

“You look best like this. Au naturel isn’t necessary bad.”

Luhan tries to stop his heart from dropping to his stomach at the compliment. He says, “It was your idea, wasn’t it?”

“Well, the set is simple and the models are the ones telling the story. If I focused too much on made-up beauty, the clothes wouldn’t shine. And Kiko looks fantastic.”

“That woman will look fantastic in a potato sack and unwashed hair.”

Kyungsoo chuckles, “True!”

Luhan looks at Kyungsoo from the corner of his eyes. He liked the way Kyungsoo’s lips formed a heart shape whenever he smiled. He liked how soft and squishy Kyungsoo looked. He liked a lot of things about Do Kyungsoo. So, for the hundredth time he wonders why was he so excited to set Kyungsoo and Yifan up when he knew how he felt about the shorter man.

Then he remembers the hurt from eight years ago and he refuses to go down that road again.

Kyungsoo says, “We break for lunch at two. Wanna grab a bite with me?”

“Sure. I wanna hear more about how your date went. Both you and Yifan are so fucking vague. Why am I friends with such boring people?”

Kyungsoo narrows his eyes, even if his cheeks colour slightly (Luhan thinks he imagines it), “Yifan is right, you are a terrible person. I need to go back to work, bye.” He takes his phone out his pocket and fiddles with it.

Luhan snickers even if his heart twists uncomfortably. Kyungsoo will never blush for him like that.

 

The words on his script are a huge blur. Yifan just can’t seem to focus. It has been a week since his impulsive adventure with Kim Junmyeon. He has done nothing but think about the short Korean man for the last seven days. He just can’t seem to get him out of his head. He almost headed for Shin-Okubo himself, but then reminded himself that Shin-Okubo is pretty big and it is filled mostly by Korean expatriates and Kim is a very, very common surname and who knows how many Junmyeons there are in this world!

He is at the recording studio, finishing the last few scenes of the non-yaoi anime he had signed on two months ago. They are at the last scene when Yifan asked for a break. His voice is hurting from all the screaming. His character is an angsty piece of shit. The character needs to scream atop terraces, in the rain, to realise he shouldn’t have let the love of his life go. Just like Yifan shouldn’t have let Junmyeon go without taking his number. Just how dumb is he?

The answer is very. “Very dumb,” he keeps hearing Luhan’s voice in his head. Yifan sometimes wonders if Luhan has a voodoo doll of him or something and keeps whispering discouraging things in its ears.

It still keeps surprising him. He gives in to impulsive stunts every now and then. Like trying for the basketball team when he was in Canada, or the tattoo on his back which says ‘Normally insane’ (he thought he was being normally sane about that decision). But what he did with Junmyeon was a whole new level of impulsive. He didn’t enjoy socialising much, his friend circle has remained unchanged for years now. But then again he had never felt like that—this intense desire to be around Junmyeon and learn more about him. If he liked books or not, what kind of foods he liked, if he preferred mornings or nights, if he liked Studio Ghibli movies or not…

Now if only he had his brain with him and asked for that number!

(He keeps blaming Junmyeon lips on him and Junmyeon’s fingers in his hair and Junmyeon’s comfortable weight on his lap for the serious glitch in his system…)

He heads for the nearest café and orders himself some ginger tea with honey. He needs to soothe his vocals. He turns his phone on (he keeps the device switched off so he can focus on work). He finds a few messages from Luhan, two from his manager/agent and one from Kyungsoo. He smiles as he chooses to open the one from Kyungsoo first. They have been texting each other, trying to find a loop in their schedule so they can meet again. And Yifan does want to, except he keeps wishing it was Junmyeon he could see again.

He has to admit to himself that he wishes he could see Junmyeon more than Kyungsoo, but what can he do…except nurture a silly little crush on a guy he kissed then forgot to take his number. Kyungsoo is real and here while Junmyeon was a moment, a wonderful moment in his life. He _has_ to get over it.

 **Kyungsoo**  
I finally have some free time this Tuesday. You don’t have work then, do you?  
06-11, 13.30                                                                                                          

 **Yifan**  
Sorry for replying so late. I was at work. Nah, I am free that night. No bartending.  
06-11, 16.32

 **Kyungsoo**  
Okay, that is great. I am excited to see you again. No matter what Luhan said, I found you interesting. :)  
06-11, 16.32

 **Yifan**  
Why, thank you and yes never listen to Luhan. He is evil.  
06-11, 16.33

 **Kyungsoo**  
LOL XD  
06-11, 16.34

 **Yifan**  
See you then :)  
06-11, 16.35

Yifan smiles. He is excited, kind of. Maybe he can get over Junmyeon if he spends some time with Kyungsoo again. Right then, Luhan starts calling. Yifan rolls his eyes in annoyance. He hadn’t talked to Luhan since last Sunday morning when his friend showed up at his apartment and wanted to know how he got those scratches and why was there a bruise at the corner of his lips. Yifan had thrown Luhan out of his apartment and refused to talk to him. But Luhan has been relentless.

However, Luhan ends up appearing before him. Yifan gapes, “What? How?” He is now even more convinced that Luhan _does_ have a voodoo doll of him. This sudden appearance is freaky as fuck.

“I knew you would be here. You are a creature of habit,” Luhan says and sits down. “I subtly asked Kyungsoo about your date and I understood that nothing happened between you two. So spill, you asshole, how you got these scars, I mean marks.” Luhan narrows his eyes and tries looking menacing.

Yifan laughs at Luhan’s expression. It is nowhere near menacing. Luhan slaps his head. Yifan grumbles, “It is a long story.”

“Tell me.”

So Yifan finally tells Luhan how he met Junmyeon, and how they ended up making out in an empty train at two thirty in the morning. Luhan hears the entire story in awed silence. His jaw hangs loose and his eyes are wide in surprise. When Yifan finishes, Luhan whistles, “Whoa! One, I cannot believe all that happened to you. Two, wow. Three, you are an idiot. And four, wow the fuck!”

“I know I am an idiot,” Yifan sighs. He deserves an award for his idiocy.

“So what about Kyungsoo?” Luhan hoods his eyes and there is an edge to his voice that Yifan misses.

“I am going out with him again coming Tuesday.”

“Oh.”

Yifan sips his tea and wonders why Luhan looks a tiny bit forlorn.


	3. WHERE THE PAST HAUNTS YOU AND THE PRESENT SURPRISES YOU

On Tuesday there is no Luhan to help poor little Wu Yifan dress, which has poor little Wu Yifan feel oddly rejected by his best friend. Not only that, every call, every message went unnoticed by Luhan. Yifan wonders if Luhan is turning tables and doing the whole I-am-going-to-ignore-you-till-you-die act that he pulled a week ago. So he calls his other Chinese friend over. Said friend has proved to be utterly useless though, as Huang Zitao had arrived an hour ago and parked his ass on Yifan’s couch with a bag of kettle chips and a marathon of Bleach on TV. Yifan had been fighting the urge to stab Zitao for the last one hour.

“Do you plan in staying here even after I leave?” Yifan asks through gritted teeth.

Zitao shoves a handful of chips in his mouth and nods. The way Zitao is sprawled on his couch like he owns the fucking place kind of sets Yifan on an edge. Zitao is such a piece of shit. Why are they friends again? Yifan grunts in annoyance as he turns around and walks over to his dresser. He had picked out a white t-shirt and acid washed blue jeans to wear. He decides to wear that leather jacket, in case, you know the jacket has magical properties and he gets to see Junmyeon again. Then he palms his face. First there is Luhan with his voodoo magic and now he thinks his jacket is magical. He needs to stop voicing fantasy shoujo animes. They are screwing with his sense of reality.

He tries combing back his hair without the hair gel he normally used. He has run out of said product and now his hair won’t listen to him and refused to stay back. Fuck it, his roots hurt. He stops taming his hair and just lets it fall over his eyebrows, at least his ‘scary’ eyebrows are hidden.

He exits his bedroom to find Zitao in the exact same position he left him in. Yifan puts his hands on his hips and says, irritation laced in his voice, “Seriously?”

Zitao casually glances over. He sweeps his uninterested, bored eyes all over Yifan and says, “You look like an emo kid trying very hard to look cool.”

Yifan rolls his eyes. “Goodbye. I don’t care. And lock the door behind you please, if and when you leave.”

“Okay ge. Have a nice time!”

Yifan shakes his head and he puts on his shoes. He leaves the house and decides to take a taxi. Kyungsoo and Yifan had decided to catch the latest horror movie. They had discovered that they both shared a love for scary movies and blood-and-gore flicks. So when they realised they can totally go see the evening show of The Conjuring 2, they didn’t hesitate to book tickets.

He arrives to the mall to see Kyungsoo standing at the entrance. He is dressed in all black which kind of works on him, makes him look very handsome. Yifan smiles and waves at Kyungsoo who blinks at him like an owl, surprise evident in those big eyes. 

Yifan gets closer and asks, “Why do you look so astonished?”

“You look very different with your hair down,” Kyungsoo smiles.

“Is different bad?” Yifan pulls one a strand of hair, suddenly shy as he looks at his shoes.

“Nope. Different is good.” Yifan looks up to see Kyungsoo fondly beaming at him. Yifan’s worry disperses a little. “Different is cute.” Yifan fights hard the blush that threatens to bloom on his face because that can ruin his "cool" image.

Since they had already gotten their tickets, they don’t loiter much, buy their popcorn and drinks and get inside the movie theatre.

Watching a movie with Kyungsoo turns out to be very fun, as they both end up making jokes at crucial scary moments in the movie.

(“Are you telling me no one wakes up when their kid is shouting like that, in the hallway, right outside their room?” Yifan asks Kyungsoo when one of the children wake up in the middle of the night and screams when the ghost messes with his fire truck. Kyungsoo replies to that with, “No, according to horror movie logic, one member shall be awake every night. Like tonight it is the kid’s turn, tomorrow it will be the sister’s turn, I am sure.”

“She is literally screaming right there, and her sister is busy sleeping! What the fuck?” Kyungsoo complains to Yifan who reminds him of his “horror movie logic”.

“Sure, I get it, the ghost really, really likes watching TV,” Yifan whispers to Kyungsoo, whose drink goes down the wrong pipe as he tries not to laugh too loudly.

“Why is the demon wearing so much white foundation?” Kyungsoo asks Yifan who thoroughly agrees about the demon’s terrible make-up decisions.

“That guy got no upper body strength,” Yifan shakes his head at the guy trying to break open a door with an axe. Kyungsoo tuts.

“Are you telling me the basement’s flooded and they are so poor that they cannot afford plumbing? The basement’s flooded!” Kyungsoo comments. Yifan ruefully shakes his head.)

When the movie’s finished, they decide to grab dinner together. As they walk the streets to look for an agreeable restaurant, they end up discussing the movie and still laugh at Yifan’s reaction at some scenes.

“Oh come on, you were scared too!” Yifan throws up his hands in protest.

“I was, but I didn’t squeal!” Kyungsoo laughs as he covers his mouth.

“Oh please! You nearly scratched me when Valak showed up at the Warren’s house!”

“That was…okay, I did. All that white foundation was terrible.”

They soon find a sushi joint and hurry in to get seats. They order their sets and drinks. Conversation flowed smoothly between them and Yifan is having fun. Kyungsoo is agreeable and nice, also funny and really witty.

But, Yifan yearned for something unnamed. He feels comfortable with Kyungsoo, but somewhere he feels like he lacks something with Kyungsoo. He keeps wondering what is that he is missing. He doesn’t find himself uncomfortable with Kyungsoo’s company, quite the contrary after all. He is enjoying himself. He finds himself liking Kyungsoo, but not enough. Not like how he wanted Junmyeon.

 _Junmyeon_.

In the middle of laughing over something, as Yifan looks at a heart-shaped smile and thinks about crinkled eyes and thin lips instead. He shakes his head to get Junmyeon out of his head. Now is not the time to think about the other short Korean man. He needs to focus on Kyungsoo.

They finish dinner and start casually walking around till they find a park. They stroll through it, under the barren cherry trees and somewhere between walking and discussing whether Japanese or Korean horror movies are better, Kyungsoo’s small hand slips in Yifan’s large one. Yifan startles a little.

Kyungsoo sheepishly asks, “Is this okay?”

Yifan looks down and smiles, trying to push away the warmth and feeling of another pair of smaller, paler hands. He softly says, “Yeah, this is okay.”

“Cool,” Kyungsoo gives him a blinding smile which extracts a gummy grin from Yifan.

Suddenly they realise it is getting really late. They are still holding hands when they exit the park and walk along the promenade. There aren’t many people around. Kyungsoo will get a taxi from here while Yifan opts for the train. They are waiting for a taxi to come by, when Yifan says, “I had a nice time.” He wasn’t lying when he said that.

Kyungsoo looks up to him and smiles, his voice husky as he licks his lips, “Me too.”

Yifan’s eyes flit to Kyungsoo’s full lips. Kyungsoo too stares at Yifan, leaning closer. Yifan throws caution to the wind and leans down.

Kyungsoo’s lips are soft under Yifan’s. Kyungsoo tilts his head which allows Yifan to put his free hand on the former’s neck. Kyungsoo puts his free hand on Yifan’s waist, dragging him closer. Kyungsoo nips at Yifan’s lip, silently asking him to open up. Yifan does and easily slips his tongue in, which tears a muffled groan from the shorter.

Yifan finds himself liking the kiss but suddenly the physical memory of softer lips and another kiss on a lonely night like this flashes in his mind. He makes a choking sound as he pulls back. He suddenly realises what the unnamed feeling was. Kyungsoo pants, and his just-kissed lips look delectable. If Yifan had his mind with him, and not running away to another man, he would have tried to kiss Kyungsoo again. Kyungsoo doesn’t look confused, just breathless and he smiles a little. He says, “We should do this again sometimes.”

Yifan grins, “Yeah.” His heart thumps as he hopelessly tries to erase Junmyeon from his treacherous mind. _Go away Junmyeon_. Suddenly his phone rings. He fishes it out and sees it is Luhan calling. He takes the call, “Hello?”

Yifan gets alarmed when he hears sniffing on the other line, “Fanfan? Can you come over? I don’t feel too good.”

Yifan says, “Okay, okay. I will be there!”

Kyungsoo asks as he takes in Yifan’s deep scowl, “Is everything okay?”

“It was Luhan. I think something is wrong with him.”

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo says. He drops his head. Yifan wonders why Kyungsoo all of a sudden looks so guilty.

“What do you know?” Yifan asks warily.

“Go to your friend. He needs you.”

They spot a taxi heading their way. Kyungsoo detaches himself from Yifan and hails the taxi down. He gets on his toes and lightly kisses Yifan one last time before getting in the taxi. “Let me know if Luhan is okay.” Yifan nods and ruefully watches the taxi speeding away.

The feeling he missed with Kyungsoo was obvious and he didn’t understand why he would feel like that. Junmyeon is a dream while Kyungsoo is real. He shouldn’t keep seeing Junmyeon in his head when he had Kyungsoo with him.

Yet, he deep down knew his kiss with Kyungsoo lacked the spark that the kiss with Junmyeon had. He had felt his blood burning and his heart lurching when Junmyeon had sat on his lap and kissed him senseless. But with Kyungsoo, he had felt none of that; but a gentle simmer that the wind could blow away at any time. And he doesn’t want to do this to Kyungsoo, doesn’t want to keep lying when it was obvious Kyungsoo liked him.

Yifan slaps his face and thinks he deserves to be run over by a truck. Then thrown into the deepest pit of hell for eternity, while little demons poke him with hot iron rods.

But for now Luhan needs him. So he shakes his stupid thoughts out of his head and walks towards the station.

 

Luhan wraps up another shoot with Marie Claire today. Kyungsoo was on the creative team again. Luhan’s look today was a bit dressier, more vibrant and they did his eyes really smoky and dark today. He thinks he looks fantastic. Even Kyungsoo complimented him, and took pictures of him on his phone. Luhan had blushed throughout. He thinks he might have seen Kyungsoo catching sly looks at him, but then again he reasons that it just could have been his overactive imagination.

After the three-hour long shoot ends, Kyungsoo grabs Luhan by his sleeve and says, “Hey do you want to go get something to drink? There is this really good tea shop in Shinjuku. I saw it on Gurunavi.”

Luhan nods, “Let me get some of the make-up off.”

“Okay.”

Luhan tries wiping off all the make-up, but it doesn’t quite work when he realises the heavy eyeliner only got slightly less heavy. He sighs. He turns to look at Kyungsoo, he says, “I think they used waterproof eyeliner. This won’t come off without baby oil. Now I have to walk around with panda eyes.”

Kyungsoo grins, “Oh come on, it doesn’t look that terrible. People might mistake you for an idol, but hey is that ever a bad thing?”

Luhan wears his jacket and smiles, “I do not want to be molested by a mob of horny teenagers, thank you very much.”

Kyungsoo fists his hands and solemnly nods, “I will protect you.”

Luhan laughs loudly, and his chin sort of disappears in his neck. Kyungsoo starts laughing at that. He says, “You know, if someone ever saw your derp face, they would never hire you.”

Luhan claps a hand over his mouth, eyes still shining in mirth. He says, “Ssh, don’t ever tell anyone about my weakness.”

Kyungsoo dons an impassive face as he silently nods and makes the motion of locking his lips and throwing the key away. Luhan grins, “Let’s go! Take me to your fabled tea shop!”

They take Luhan’s car with Kyungsoo behind the wheel since the former didn’t know the way. A few minutes later they stop in front of Black Pearl, the tea shop. They get down and head inside.

Luhan hums impressed as he takes in the soothing honey and earth toned interiors. He says, “This is nice.”

“Yeah. Looks much better than the pictures on the app,” Kyungsoo agrees.

They take a seat beside a window and order a pot of jasmine-cha and kocha along with a plate of shortbread cookies for Luhan and a lemon tart for Kyungsoo. They chat and talk till their orders arrive.

When Luhan bites into the cookie, he nearly swoons at the beautiful buttery taste of the shortbread cookie. He feels like he had tasted something like this before, but he cannot remember where. Kyungsoo watches Luhan sighing in satisfaction and raises his eyebrow. He says, “Are the cookies that great?”

“Mm hmm,” Luhan breaks a bit to give it to Kyungsoo who opens his mouth. Luhan tries fighting the heat trying to creep unto his face. He casually feeds Kyungsoo while his heart takes a swan dive and comes resting somewhere near his feet. His fingers brush against those lips a little, and Luhan whimpers mentally. Then Kyungsoo closes his eyes too as he chews, and Luhan stares, transfixed as the former purses his full lips and nods his head. Luhan takes a long gulp of his jasmine tea and says, “Nice right?”

“This is a sin,” Kyungsoo dreamily nods.

 _You are a sin_. “Amen,” Luhan smiles, but all of a sudden he remembers the taste, the cookies tasted like what someone used to bake on lazy Sunday mornings. He says, more to himself than anyone else, “I remember someone making cookies just like this.”

“Who?”

Luhan jumps a little. He didn’t think that Kyungsoo would hear him. He tries smiling as the ancient pain bleeds a little from the wound he had carefully closed. He murmurs, “My ex-boyfriend.”

Kyungsoo opens his mouth to say something, but doesn’t. Instead he reaches forward and holds Luhan’s hand. Luhan startles and blinks confusedly at Kyungsoo, who kindly smiles and squeezes Luhan’s rapidly cooling hands. Luhan feels like some warmth seeping in through Kyungsoo’s touch. Kyungsoo says, “You don’t have to say anything, I can tell it wasn’t a happy ending.”

Luhan shakes his head and turns his palm up, so Kyungsoo can lace his fingers through. Luhan looks down at their joined hands, and says, “It wasn’t. I still don’t know why we broke up and where he is.”

“That’s…terrible,” Kyungsoo sighs. “You don’t deserve that.”

“But…he was so terribly nice.”

“Sometimes…things don’t work out. You will be okay.”

Luhan nods and swallows the sob trying to break through. He sees Kyungsoo raising his other hand but before he can do anything, they hear someone saying, “Luhan?”

They both turn their head to their left to see a short man with spiky copper hair and slanted eyes, blinking scared at Luhan.

Luhan whimpers, “Min-minseok?”

Eight years. Eight long years had passed since the night where Luhan had woken up to an empty apartment and a single pink post-it note on the refrigerator saying “I am sorry”. Luhan had fallen apart entirely and if Yifan hadn’t taken him to Japan with him that year, Luhan would have spiralled deeper down the black hole of despair and alcohol till he tried taking a shiny razor to his wrist again. Eight years since he last saw his former lover, Kim Minseok’s face. And here, after eight years of wondering what he did that was so wrong that Minseok had to leave him like that, stands the man himself.

Minseok looked shocked and surprised. But Luhan looked pained like he is mentally trying to hold in the hurt bleeding out of the wound he had buried deep down in his soul as he stares stupefied at the man he had once loved more than anything in this world. The heart at his feet had climbed back in his chest and he can feel it thudding erratically against his ribs.

Minseok briefly glances at the joined hands of Kyungsoo and Luhan. Kyungsoo who had watched the entire encounter unfold silently had pieced the puzzle pieces together. He eyes Minseok's apron and the cookies, which are a crucial piece in this mystery. He slowly says, “Luhan, is this your ex?”

Luhan gasps and looks back at Kyungsoo, with wide, fearful eyes. He opens and closes his mouth for a few seconds, unable to form the right words. Kyungsoo smiles kindly at him and rubs his thumb over Luhan’s knuckles. When Luhan slowly nods his head, Kyungsoo squeezes his hand one last time before releasing him and getting to his feet. He stares straight at Minseok with a hard, unforgiving gaze. He extends his hand, which Minseok takes, and says, his voice unusually firm, “I am Do Kyungsoo, Luhan’s colleague and boyfriend. I have heard about you.” Kyungsoo puts a little bit more pressure to his grip on Minseok’s hand. Minseok winces a little and Luhan glimpses a flash of triumph in Kyungsoo’s eyes.

But the whole “Luhan’s colleague and boyfriend” part had not been ignored by Luhan. He had heard it loud and clear, and he thinks if he should call an ambulance just in case, because his poor heart cannot take all of this anymore.

“Kim Minseok. I, uh, own this place,” Minseok says hesitantly.

“Oh? Well your cookies and tarts are great.”

“Thank you.”

It is like sitting in your room, by the window with a binocular watching your neighbour get murdered by a stranger in the building opposite to Luhan right now. He is here, he is involved, but not really as Kyungsoo and Minseok continue to stare each other down. He stays silent and watches the awkward tension rise and swell between the two men. Minseok finally wrenches his hand free from Kyungsoo’s grip and holds it to his chest. He looks down at Luhan and smiles, “It was good to see you are doing well.”

Luhan stands up and nods his head. Doing well? Yeah, right. Minseok smiles one last time and bows at Kyungsoo, who returns it and escapes for his kitchen. Luhan feels his knees getting weak and nearly crashes to the table when Kyungsoo catches him. Luhan grabs Kyungsoo’s shoulders and whispers, “Thank you. If you weren’t here, I would have been hiding under the table crying.” His head limply falls on the shorter man’s shoulder.

Kyungsoo inhales shakily and buries his face on Luhan’s hair. He says, “That bad?”

“Yeah.” Luhan leans more into Kyungsoo, not really caring that the handful of patrons around were throwing them covert, curious glances. He feels Kyungsoo stroking his hair, his fingers softly caressing his damaged roots. Luhan feels a sobbing, crying shitstorm coming. He stands up straighter and looks at Kyungsoo. He smiles, “Thank you, again.”

Kyungsoo still has his hand in Luhan’s hair. He cups Luhan’s face and gently rubs his thumb over his cheekbone. He says, “Let me take you home. You don’t look fit enough to drive.”

Honestly, Luhan felt sick to the core. He didn’t think meeting Minseok like this would result in such a violent physical reaction. But he shakes his head. He didn’t want to burden Kyungsoo. He didn’t want Kyungsoo to keep touching him like this, so affectionately that his heart hurt. He says, “No, I can go. You got a date with Yifan right? You need to get home and pimp up and shit.”

Kyungsoo frowns and Luhan detects conflict in those large, usually inexpressive eyes. He shakes his head, “I don’t need twelve hours to get ready. I will drop you home and then take a taxi from there.” When Luhan opens his mouth to protest, Kyungsoo presses his index finger on his lips to shut him up. “No arguments,” he growls. Luhan dumbly nods.

Kyungsoo nearly manhandles Luhan as he pushes the latter on to the passenger seat. Kyungsoo even buckled his seatbelt for him. Luhan feels a bit giddy when Kyungsoo leans over him to tuck him in. Luhan gets a whiff of Kyungsoo’s spicy scent, and he wishes he could tuck his head against Kyungsoo’s neck…and stay there.

Kyungsoo drops Luhan at his apartment, and then as he said, he left in a taxi, making Luhan promise to call him later in the night. Luhan dragged his feet to his apartment and collapsed on the sofa, finally letting the emotional exhaustion catch up to him. He remembers Minseok’s feline eyes blinking in shock at him, and his stomach lurches. Luhan gets up groggily and rushes to his bathroom. He slumps over the commode and his oesophagus decides to empty all of his stomach’s contents into the water.

When he feels like he has run empty, he puts his head against the cool ceramic and tries to breathe. He shivers a little as he gets to his feet to flush the toilet. He stands in front of his basin and looks at himself in the mirror. His skin is splotched and his eyes are watery. He splashes some water on his face, as he lets a few tears fall.

He shuffles into his bedroom and drops on the mattress. He pulls the covers on himself and cries all the tears he hadn’t allowed himself for the last few years to seep into the pillow. He cries and cries till he frankly knocks himself out. He falls into a fitful sleep.

However, his dreams are anything but peaceful.

_Luhan is back at the small apartment he and Minseok have rented as Luhan started taking small modelling jobs and Minseok tries at various management colleges. Minseok’s family has money, but he wanted to start his own business. They are only eighteen, and they are filled with hopes and dreams._

_Luhan has decided to bypass higher education because he didn’t want to and reading thick books and taking copious notes didn't have any interest for him, he wanted to work and earn money as soon as possible. Minseok takes up a part-time job at a café as he finally finds the college of his dreams. Minseok and Luhan are so much in love. Also, they have no one but themselves in Seoul. Minseok actually lived in Japan and he made the decision to study in Korea while Luhan’s only best friend had left for college in Japan. Luhan sort of feels sad that he never managed to get Minseok and Yifan to meet each other._

_And it was all good for a year. Luhan was getting better jobs, his pay was increasing and he was enjoying the fame. Minseok was the top student in his class, and together, nothing could stop this couple. Yet…_

_Minseok started getting distant. Luhan stopped fighting for their love. But one day he decided to confront his boyfriend about it._

_He dreams about the day he made dinner and bought that expensive wine Minseok liked. Tonight was going to be special. Luhan wanted to talk. He knew Minseok was skirting around something that had been bothering him. Luhan aimed to create an atmosphere of comfort so Minseok can confide his thoughts in him._

_But Minseok never came home that night. Luhan finished that wine all by himself and promptly passed out. When he wakes up the next morning, he finds all of Minseok’s things gone and a single pink post-it note in Minseok’s clean handwriting. Luhan doesn’t remember what he did after that day._

_The scene shifts from him sitting on his kitchen floor to his bathroom, where he sits in a tub filled with water. The water sloshes around his naked body and splashes over the brim to flood the ground. Luhan takes a razor to his wrist and watches with sick fascination as the deep, deep scarlet drips down his pale hands and ribbons in the water._

_Soon the clear water is coloured red. Luhan still watches. Suddenly Minseok appears in the room and laughs. Luhan looks up at him in confusion. Minseok says, his voice like steel wool on the delicate surface of Luhan’s brittle soul, “Poor Bambi, you thought I loved you? I was there because I needed a roof over my head and an idiot to care for me.” Minseok gets in the tub with him and picks up the razor Luhan had dropped. He slices a long vertical line along Luhan’s ivory arms. Luhan doesn’t quite register the pain of metal slicing his skin open, the pain that he_ does _feel is from Minseok’s words and from the cruel glint in his beautiful eyes. “You are worthless. You sold your body. You know you were so stupid that you didn’t even try to get an education, just became those vacuous glamour prostitutes for money. Well, the money got us food on the table, so who cares?”_

_Fat tears roll down Luhan’s eyes as Minseok’s words cut deeper than any wound. But Minseok doesn’t stop the torment. He plunges his fingers along the cut he made. Blood oozes out of the wound and then Luhan feels the pain. He screams._

_He screams till his lungs hurt. Minseok keeps laughing, the sound burns Luhan’s skin._

Luhan wakes up screaming. He is drenched in sweat and he is shaking. He simultaneously feels too hot and too cold. His hands shake as he gets his phone and taps on the first number on his speed dial.

When Yifan picks his call up, he can no longer stop the tears. He sniffs, “Fanfan? Can you come over? I don’t feel too good.”

Yifan doesn't even ask why and what for, “Okay, okay. I will be there!”

Luhan doesn’t even hit the red icon. The phone slips from his grip and he doesn’t know where it fell. Nor does he care. Yifan has a spare key, he can get himself in. Luhan curls under the covers and cries till his sides hurt. He thought he was over the pain. But Minseok never gave him a reason. And Luhan thinks he has been waiting for an explanation since.

He doesn’t know how much time passes as he continues shivering and crying under the covers. But he faintly hears the lock on his door turning and heavy footsteps coming into his room. He hears Yifan say, his voice alarmed, “Oh my god Luhan? Are you okay?” The room was dark till Yifan flipped on all the switches.

Luhan feels the dip in the mattress as Yifan sits down and grabs the cover. Yifan pulls down the covers and gasps at Luhan’s tear-stained face. Yifan places a hand on his forehead and whistles, “Whoa, you are burning up.”

“But I feel too cold Fan,” Luhan whispers, his voice scratchy. He hasn’t moved, or drank or eaten since this evening. “Can you give me some water?”

Yifan nods his head and leaves Luhan for a minute as he gets a glass of water. Yifan returns and helps Luhan sit up. Luhan takes dainty sips when Yifan asks, “Are you gonna tell me what happened?”

Luhan hands the empty glass to Yifan. He takes a long look at Yifan’s frowning but concerned face. He knows Yifan wouldn’t take it very well. He knows how overprotective Yifan can get. He almost considers lying before he stops himself. He roughly whispers, “I saw him. He is in Japan. He owns a tea shop.”

“He?” Yifan frowns. He is confused. But then he looks at Luhan’s red eyes and nose, and he remembers when was the last time he saw his best friend like this. “Don’t tell me… _Kim Minseok_ is in Japan?” Yifan’s jaw hardens and his hands curl into fists.

Luhan looks at Yifan when he hears the undercurrent of anger in his voice. He sees the hard jaw and the fists. Luhan covers one fist with his hand and shakes his head, “No, no, you are not going on some crazy crusade to hurt Minseok. He is my problem.”

A flash of indignation passes through Yifan’s eyes. “Luhan, you had to go to a therapist thanks to that fucker! You nearly killed yourself! I was this close to losing you thanks to that son of a bitch! What makes you think he isn’t my problem too?”

Luhan weakly smiles. An odd warmth filling his heart as he realises how loved he is. He puts his head on Yifan’s shoulder and says, “You are cute but please, please don’t. I have a chance to know what I did wrong all those years ago. Don’t fuck it up for me please.”

Yifan gnashes his teeth. He hates it, but he knows Luhan is right. He understands that Luhan probably needs to know that to get some closure, to move on. He had seen Luhan breaking himself down until nothing remained in his heart. Luhan flung himself into his work, into random strangers who provided comfort for a night, closing his heart so no one could ever come in. He pats Luhan’s head and says, “Fine. Whatever. Now lie down. Did you have something to eat?”

Luhan lies down and shakes his head. Suddenly, he is acutely aware how weak he feels, his body deprived of nutrition, his last meal being flushed down the pipe. Yifan rolls his eyes as he gets down from the bed. He says, “Your fridge better have groceries in it.”

Luhan grins and Yifan is happy to see that impish glee on his friend’s face. He doesn’t want Luhan to go down that path again.

Yifan walks into the kitchen and checks the refrigerator. He thinks about the day he got that call from his junior Zhang Yixing—a Chinese student in Korea like him and Luhan. After Yifan had left for Japan and Luhan had made up his mind not to go to college, Luhan had met Minseok. So Minseok and Yifan never met face-to-face, just through cutesy pictures Luhan sent. Yixing was there,  and he was Luhan’s biggest fan. (The guy is now back in China studying medicine, but Yifan and Luhan are still very much in touch with him.)

One day while returning from his acting classes, he gets that call from Yixing.

_“Ge! Luhan-ge got hurt!” the younger Chinese student says._

_Yifan stops walking and hold his breath. “Yixing, what happened?”_

_“Lu-ge…he hurt his head on the tub as he slipped. There was water on the floor.”_

_“Xing…what are you hiding?” Yifan hears the obvious catch in his voice._

_“Ge,” Yixing breaks into a sob. “The paramedics on the scene found a bottle of strong sleeping pills, a razor blade near the tub and a suicide note in the bedroom.”_

_Yifan closes his eyes and takes a deep breath as dread fills him. He says, “I will try to get to Seoul as soon as possible.”_

Yifan had nearly cleaned out his entire account balance as he booked the earliest flight to Korea. He hadn’t wasted any time as he rushed for the hospital where Luhan was admitted. He had found an unconscious Luhan and a frenetic Yixing there. He had calmed the younger and ordered him to go home. Yixing complied and Yifan was there when Luhan woke up and started crying and telling him all about Minseok’s sudden abandonment. Yifan swears he has never felt the urge to seriously murder someone before that.

Luhan has always been a little fragile, a little more emotional than Yifan. He smiles too easy and gets involved too fast. But Yifan knew he was happy with Minseok. Until all hell broke loose and Luhan lost his first love.

As he stirs the congee on the stove, he thinks if he can sneak behind Luhan’s back and actually go smash Minseok’s face. He was too close to lose the best friend he never wanted but needed in his life. Since that fateful night Yifan has been extra protective of Luhan.

He re-enters the bedroom with a tray of hot food and a glass of orange juice. Luhan hears him entering. He says, “Can you turn that light off please? It is like directly hitting my face.”

Yifan turns off said offensive light. He helps Luhan sit up again and places the tray on his lap. He sits at the foot and keeps watch like a hawk as Luhan finishes his bowl of food in tiny spoonfuls. When Luhan is finished, Yifan silently takes the bowl and says, “I will sleep on the couch. You call me if you need something, okay?”

Luhan nods his head and smiles, “Yes sir! You know your cooking is much, much better now.”

“Yeah. I had practice.”

Luhan smiles some more before his face gets serious again. He says, “Thank you.”

Yifan shakes his head and ruffles Luhan’s hair. He says nothing else as he leaves the room, not before switching all the lights off. Luhan crawls under the covers again and feels calmer, knowing no matter what happens, he has Yifan and Yifan will help him get over all the bad things in his life. He falls asleep. And this times it is a blissfully dreamless sleep.

 

Minseok’s entire body shakes like he has a fever, as he watches Luhan leave, leaning heavily on his boyfriend. He had never imagined he would see Luhan again, that too in Japan. His doe eyes and ivory skin is still the same, but the hurt that he saw in his eyes twists Minseok’s insides. Luhan didn’t deserve what he did to him. Maybe…this is his chance to rectify things, to repent.

He nearly misses the man in front of him and he walks into him. The man is about to fall backwards when Minseok catches him by his forearm. It is only then that he realises that it is Jongdae who blinks at him. Minseok helps him to his feet and thinks Jongdae is too close. Jongdae’s breath fans over his face when he says, “Thanks hyung.” Their gazes hold a little longer than normal and they both look away at the same time blushing.

Minseok releases him and then runs his fingers through his hair. Jongdae has such firm biceps by the way, Minseok registers somewhere in the back of his mind. Jongdae scoots back a little, and says, “I saw that. Who were those people? That purple haired dude and the short owlish man? Though the purple haired dude seemed familiar.”

Minseok sighs as he walks behind the closed coffee counter. Jongdae follows him and hops on top of the counter. Jongdae puts a hand on his shoulder. Minseok looks up and notices that Jongdae looks very nice in his sharp midnight blue suit, white shirt and grey tie. Jongdae uses his other hand to loosen that tie a little and pop open the first two buttons on his shirt. Minseok slyly eyes the tanned neck, a beautiful contrast against the blinding white of the shirt.

“So?”

Minseok is broken out of his latest ogling session. He looks back at Jongdae who raises his ridiculously linear eyebrows. He continues, “I came to see if you had those custard puffs today or not, when I see the obviously awkward conversation. Then purple hair looked like he was going to faint. And the shorter dude looked ready to go to battle with anyone.”

“The purple hair dude was my ex,” Minseok admits. “And the dude ready for battle is his current boyfriend.”

“Oh! Did purple hair dump you for the tiny Spartan?”

“No, I dumped him eight years ago without even telling him why. I packed up one night and left with only a post-it note in my wake.”

Jongdae whistles. “Hyung…that is cruel. What did he do to deserve such terrible treatment?”

“He did nothing. He was the nicest, sweetest and best boyfriend you could find.” Minseok rubs his face as the old guilt crawls out of the box he had buried deep into his mind. “I was the one who fucked up.”

“Why?”

Minseok turns his head to lock his gaze with Jongdae whose gaze is soft and sad. Minseok doesn’t understand it. He says, “I was only nineteen. A guy I knew in school was surprised to know when I told him I had a boyfriend and that I lived with him. Luhan, the purple hair dude, was my first love, and boyfriend. That day I realised I was too young to tie myself down. I was only nineteen and this were supposed to be my wildest years. Suddenly the thought of spending forever seemed so…intimidating. So I scrammed. That too like some lowlife criminal because I wasn’t brave enough to confront him about it.”

Jongdae sighs and hops down from the counter. “So you are afraid of being tied down?”

“I was nineteen then. I’d like to think I am older and wiser now.” Minseok bitterly chuckles. “It is not like I am afraid of commitment now, but it is more like this fear remains that I will fuck things up again. I don’t trust myself Jongdae.”

“Is that why you—”

Jongdae is interrupted when the door opens and Junmyeon enters, greeting them cheerily, “Hey!” Then when he notices Jongdae, his smile gets bigger, “Oh hello Jongdae.”

Jongdae smiles brightly at him. Minseok thinks he doesn’t have to be here anymore, he is about to make his escape to the kitchen when Junmyeon says, “I came to see you, but, ah whatever, it can wait.”

“If you two need privacy, I have to go the bathroom anyway.” Jongdae heads for the restrooms at the back.

Minseok smiles at Junmyeon. He can tell from the too bright eyes and toothy grin that Junmyeon is excited for something. He asks, “Okay, spill. I can practically hear your synapses frying.”

Junmyeon leans across the counter and says in a rush, “My first manga, remember the one set in feudal Japan?”

“Where both your protagonists die tragically? Yes, I do remember.”

“Jiyong called me to his office today for lunch. He told me the manga is going to be picked up for an anime!”

Minseok’s eyes widen as he says, “Congratulations! That is like, whoa!” He leans across the counter to pulls Junmyeon into a tight hug.

Junmyeon grins, “I know, I know.” He pulls back and his grin falls. He continues, “But…no one knows I am a guy.”

Minseok releases Junmyeon and puts his hands on his hips. “Oh yeah, that.”

Junmyeon chews his lip. “Jiyong says we will cross that bridge when we get to it, but you know. He is even calling up lawyers to draft a confidentiality clause or something so you know my identity remains a secret.”

“Jiyong is smart. He knows what he is doing. I am sure.”

Jongdae returns from the bathroom. He has taken off the tie and both Minseok and Junmyeon turn to look at that neck. Minseok flushes deeply and looks away. Junmyeon chooses to raise his gaze and smile at Jongdae who already had his feline grin in place.

“Hey Junmyeon,” Jongdae says.

“Hey Jongdae,” Junmyeon smiles.

Minseok pretends to be busy wiping the cups in the sink, one ear fixed to the conversation going behind his back.

“Since you are already here,” Jongdae scratches the back of his neck. “Do you want to go get dinner?”

Minseok grits his teeth, trying to get the jealousy bubbling up to go back down. He hears Junmyeon say, “Okay.”

“Minseok?” Junmyeon says.

Minseok looks over his shoulder, “Yeah?”

Junmyeon hands him some coins, “Can I get a honeydew bubble tea to go?”

Minseok takes the money. “Seriously why do you even like these sugary monstrosities?”

“Because coffee has killed all my baby taste buds.”

Jongdae tinkling laughter is quite pleasant to Minseok’s ears. He heads for the kitchen to prepare Junmyeon’s order, his ears burning.

“Not my monkey, not my circus,” he mutters under his breath, mostly to himself. Maybe one of his employees slightly raise her eyebrows at her boss.

When he returns with the large container of honeydew bubble tea, something snaps in him when he sees Jongdae and Junmyeon leaning on the counter, giggling and chatting. Their faces are too close for his comfort. He bites his lip and reminds himself that he is a mature, responsible adult who isn’t petty enough to harbour feelings of jealousy because it is obvious Jongdae now likes Junmyeon and the train had left the station very long ago. Too bad he had fallen asleep in the station and by the time he woke up, the station was entirely deserted.

“Here,” Minseok hands Junmyeon the drink. “Now children go have fun!”

Junmyeon takes the drink and grins, “Why thank you, fairy godmother!”

“Bippity boppity boo!” Minseok puts a lid on his jealousy by acting like he is in some Disney movie by swishing his hands in the air.

Jongdae and Junmyeon giggle before they leave. Minseok watches them go. Now the pea is pretty much the size of a melon, Minseok muses.

 

“But imagine!”

Jongdae flails, his hands waving wildly in the air as his eyes widened and the grin became brighter.

Junmyeon shakes his head, “No, no, Sirius is dead. No way he could he be alive.” He picks at his donkatsu bowl as he tries to reason with Jongdae. They were currently fighting over a fictional character’s death.

“But, look Bellatrix didn’t use the death curse. And he fell back into that Veil! Everyone says it is a huge conspiracy theory!”

“But Bellatrix died without Molly Weasley using the death curse as well!”

“Not the same thing!”

“I know! But you are a blockhead, I don’t understand why you refuse to see reason! We all love Sirius, no need to drag his death. Next I know you will say Fred dying was an elaborate, albeit twisted, prank!”

Jongdae gasps, loudly. His chopsticks drop. He looks so offended, like Junmyeon had just now insulted his ancestors or something. It is only then does Junmyeon realises his folly. Being a hardcore Potterhead and saying _such things_ about Fred Weasley’s death is enough for him to render his Pottermore account null and void. So he claps a hand over his mouth.

Jongdae shakes his head, “You went there…”

“I didn’t mean to,” Junmyeon sheepishly says, tucking his head.

“I am not over that death.”

“Neither is anyone.”

“That and Dobby for me.”

“Dude, ouch. Why must you hurt me this way? I still cry reading Cedric Diggory’s death.”

“Yeah…or is it because Robert Pattinson was so fucking perfect as Cedric?”

“I will have you know I read Goblet of Fire before I saw the movie. And yes, Robert Pattinson was fucking perfect as Cedric.”

“Oh, you are that sort of a snob.”

Junmyeon narrows his eyes, ready to counterattack when Jongdae starts laughing. Junmyeon cracks half a smile. Jongdae says, “I am just glad I met you because no one gets why I am still emotional about Harry Potter, and why I will catch the first show of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them come hail or snow.”

“Same. I am going to bring out my Hufflepuff sweater when I go see the movie and desperately hope it fits me because the last time I wore it, I was nineteen.”

“You are a Hufflepuff?” Jongdae leans forward, eye shining.

“Yeah. Pottermore sorted me, even though I always knew I was a Hufflepuff.”

“I am a Slytherin,” Jongdae smirks as Junmyeon raises an eyebrow.

“Oh wow.”

“I know right?”

The rest of the dinner passes with Jongdae and Junmyeon dissecting why they think they fit into their respective Hogwarts houses. Junmyeon admits he hates the colour yellow with a passion and Jongdae confesses he doesn’t like wearing green because he hasn’t found a shade of his house colour that suits him (woe be Kim Jongdae). Junmyeon says maybe he is a proud Puff because he does enjoy his work, and he works hard. Jongdae wonders out loud if he got sorted into Slytherin because deep inside he wishes he was Draco Malfoy’s boyfriend (“Didn’t we all?” Junmyeon sighs.)

Suddenly Junmyeon wonders how wonderful a friend Jongdae would make. They share the same love for Harry Potter after all. Then he remembers, this is a _date_. Not a platonic ‘hang-out’.

After dinner, they both decide to take a walk back since they hadn’t left Shinjuku. Jongdae and Junmyeon lived in the same neighbourhood in Shinjuku, though Jongdae lived on the other end of Shin-Okubo. The nearly empty streets remind him of another night like this in Ikebukuro. And suddenly he starts missing Yifan, and his gummy smiles, and his terrible jokes, and his overwhelming self-confidence, and his broad back, and his never-ending limbs in skinny jeans. The desire to see Yifan overpowers him and he tries hard to get his lungs to work properly. He is so lost in thoughts he doesn’t even realise Jongdae has stopped walking.

They are at a three-way crossing when both of them realise they need to go in different directions. Jongdae smiles, “So, uh, I need to go that way.” He points over Junmyeon’s shoulder.

“I go that way,” Junmyeon jerks his thumb to the right. He watches Jongdae fidget a little, and he wonders what is that about.

Jongdae leans in and whispers, “Can I kiss you?”

Junmyeon faintly nods, doesn’t close his eyes as he anticipates Jongdae’s lips on his. But instead Jongdae pecks him on his cheek. Junmyeon is surprised and he cannot fight the blush heating up his cheeks.

Jongdae leans back and chuckles, “You are so cute when you are flustered!”

“I am not!” Junmyeon scoffs.

Jongdae’s lips curl in that ridiculously adorable way and Junmyeon bites his lip, thinking if he leaned in and kissed him, will he forget how Yifan tasted? So he takes the risk and leans forward, softly kissing one corner of Jongdae’s lips.

Jongdae is startled. He looks at a blushing Junmyeon for a few seconds before he grabs Junmyeon’s neck and puts his lips on Junmyeon.

Junmyeon closes his eyes and focuses on how Jongdae feels on his lips. His lips are soft and thin, but Junmyeon remembers plump lips instead. Jongdae’s bony fingers stroke the hair on his neck while Junmyeon thinks about large hands and long fingers. Junmyeon pushes and pushes against his thoughts of one Wu Yifan. He makes a noise of despair as he fights with his mind and gets a hold of Jongdae’s shirt. He pulls him closer as Jongdae lightly nips for Junmyeon to open his mouth.

Junmyeon opens his mouth and Jongdae delves in. The electric brush of Jongdae’s skilful tongue jolts Junmyeon awake. Jongdae is real, Jongdae is kissing him with so much passion and what is he doing? He is holding on to an impossible dream. So he manages to tuck Yifan and his lips and hands into a box in his mind and stow it far, far away, out of his reach.

Junmyeon tilts his head and meets Jongdae’s every move, every heated brush of lips, every lush sweep of tongues expertly. Junmyeon hears Jongdae groaning a little. Junmyeon grins a little.

Soon, lungs fight for oxygen and they pull away. Jongdae presses his forehead against Junmyeon’s and he breathes hard. Junmyeon is no different as he tries to get his breathing under control as well. Jongdae grins, “Wow. You can kiss.”

Junmyeon grins back, “Why thank you.”

“But I have to go. I need to attend a stupid meeting tomorrow morning.” He pouts as he says so.

Junmyeon nods as he pulls out of Jongdae’s embrace. Jongdae catches his lips in a quick kiss before he walks off, bidding Junmyeon a good night, smile in place.

Junmyeon touches his lips and even though he can feel the heat to the tip of his toes, he cannot forget the burn of another someone’s touch. He hates himself. He hates how he kissed Jongdae and now he is comparing him to Yifan, which isn’t right at all!

Yifan is a pipe dream. Junmyeon can only hope to relive that moment. He has to move onwards and let Jongdae in. He did enjoy his time with Jongdae, he knows. But Yifan keeps peeking in and leaking out through everything he does. He has to make that box stronger, he has to make sure Yifan stays there. He cannot keep running towards the impossible.

Kim Jongdae. Wu Yifan. The choice is simple. He shouldn’t even be having to make a choice. He shouldn’t be even pitting them against each other. Yifan was a day while Jongdae could be more than that. Junmyeon could see potential. He could also see himself with Yifan—kissing those lips, laughing at those lame jokes, wondering how he looks on sleepy Saturday mornings...

Junmyeon doesn’t know how long he had been standing there, at the three-way, staring at the direction Jongdae went. He has to stop. He has to get a grip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be up by next Wednesday :)


	4. WHERE YOU FINALLY KNOW HOW I FEEL: PART I

“Junmyeon! My talented, wonderful Junmyeon!” Junmyeon squints hard at his agent/editor Kwon Jiyong who grins at him, and there is a hint of evil in those perfect display of teeth. Junmyeon doesn’t find it in himself to trust Jiyong. The man is, as usual, dressed impeccably in a burgundy suit which makes Junmyeon wonder if he could ever pull off that colour. Only Kwon Jiyong could. He could even make a hot pink suit work (that was a long time ago, and that was the second time Junmyeon had met him. Imagine his horror).

“What do you want hyung?” Junmyeon cocks his head to the side, carefully measuring the calculated grin and malevolent shine in Jiyong’s eyes.

“I have news and I have _good_ news.” The grin still in place, now making Junmyeon a little bit uncomfortable. Junmyeon unconsciously shifts in his chair.

“I will have both please.” Junmyeon doesn’t understand why but cold sweat breaks over his upper lip. He only felt Jiyong’s omnipotent aura, the way he would bend everyone to his will, a long time ago when Jiyong had successfully convinced him to publish under a female pen-name. He is feeling that overwhelming atmosphere again. He is already feeling the pressure. He knows Jiyong will try to convince him into another insane idea.

“Okay,” Jiyong rubs his hands and walks around his table to stand in front of Junmyeon. He leans lightly against his desk. “The good news is that the anime has been given the green light. We have sponsors.”

“What is the news then?” Junmyeon narrows his eyes as he feels the dread slowly descending on him.

“The director and the voice actor want to meet you.”

There it is. Junmyeon sits up straighter in his chair. He shakes his head, “Are you insane? Why?”

“Why? Because they want to understand the characters better. The man who is going to voice Miyazaki is a complete pro. He has a resume longer than my height Junmyeon!”

“You are not that tall, first of all. But—”

Jiyong slips off his desk and leans over Junmyeon. He puts his hands on Junmyeon’s shoulder and says, “Miyazaki is your greatest creation, he is full of pain, and suffering. His ambiguity makes him so deliciously complex. He isn’t an easy character. And Kevin Li wants to get into his skin, and who better to help him than you?”

“Kevin Li?” Junmyeon’s eyes widen. He has heard that name. He also has heard that voice and he thought that voice was divine. “Kevin Li is going to voice Miyazaki? Oh my god.”

“I know right?” Jiyong wriggles his eyebrows. He can smell his victory in the air. As an offering of peace, he says, “And don’t worry, I will make them sign a confidentiality contract. They won’t be able to ever tell anyone who you are.”

Junmyeon knows he has lost. Jiyong had withheld that bit of information for the last because he knew he was going to win. Junmyeon’s lips curl at a corner as he slowly nods his head and says, “Okay.”

Jiyong claps his hand and his obvious glee is infectious as Junmyeon ends up with a silly grin too. Jiyong smiles, “Isn’t it wonderful that your characters are going to get a new lease of life?”

Junmyeon nods and picks at his cuticles. “It is nice. I hope they don’t fuck it up.” Isn’t that what every mangaka fears when their stationary art of black and white is transformed into colour and motion? Maybe Jiyong is right. The only way he can ensure that nothing gets changed too much is to be directly involved. So maybe this is the right thing to do. This way he will be free of any distress if he saw how his work got turned into an anime.

“They won’t. I will see to that,” Jiyong promises.

Junmyeon looks up at Jiyong who had a genuine smile on his face this time. Junmyeon returns that smile, he knows his work is in safe hands. Maybe Jiyong is the only person he can trust after Minseok.

“Oh, I just remembered,” Jiyong goes around his desk and sits down in his fancy swivel chair. “Guess who I met at a conference a few days ago?”

“Yana Toboso?” Junmyeon asks. Toboso is his idol and he has been badgering Jiyong since time immemorial to get him to meet her.

“No,” Jiyong sighs. He knows how much Junmyeon loved his number one idol. “I met Shinosuke that day. He recognised me straightaway. He asked me about you.”

The name Shinosuke sends an involuntary shiver down his arms. He hasn’t thought about that name since the day he left that beautiful house in Jiyugaoka in tears and anger governing his direction. He had walked to Minseok’s house without stopping. His legs had hurt and his vision was blurry. But he didn’t care. He remembers the snow. It was Christmas Eve when he got to know his boyfriend of two years had been cheating on him, a very Merry Christmas to him. He was so stupidly in love with the tall, long-haired artist with the most beautiful smile on earth. Needless to say, Junmyeon’s world used to revolve around Taniyama Shinosuke, Tokyo’s most famous post-modernist, once upon a time.

“Oh?” Junmyeon says in a very tiny voice.

“I gave him extremely vague, frustrating answers. So don’t worry.”

Junmyeon cracks half a smile. He knows how Sphinx-like Kwon Jiyong can get. “I bet he left greatly irritated.”

“Oh you have no idea!”

Junmyeon laughs. He glances at his watch. He gets to his feet. “Okay, I got to go now. Lunch with Minseok.”

“Ah, haven’t seen shorty for a while. Tell him not to be a stranger. And rest assured, I will deal with the director and actor. Just show up on Monday at ten, and let me handle the rest, okay?”

“Okay,” Junmyeon curtly nods and takes his leave as Jiyong shuffles some papers and returns to his work.

Junmyeon had a lunch date planned with Minseok. He heads for Black Pearl and it takes him a little more than forty minutes to get there. So he is left alone for a long time with his thoughts.

He thinks about Shinosuke and his button nose. How they met in Junmyeon’s second year of art college. Shinosuke was much older than him, by seven years and he was so charming and so ridiculously handsome. Taniyama Shinosuke was the guest lecturer of the day and something just _clicked_. He really liked Junmyeon’s painting of autumn flowers. Junmyeon was already smitten. Shinosuke asking him out surprised no one. Junmyeon was ecstatic.

They were together for two years. After the first year together Shinosuke coaxed him to move in with him. The two-storeyed house in Jiyugaoka was stunning. It had a skylight, a greenhouse in the back and a koi pond too. Shinosuke even made him a smaller studio to work in. Junmyeon was terribly happy to have such an attentive, talented and intelligent lover.

Junmyeon sighs and presses his head against the window. He closes his eyes and he can still see the scene he walked into, that shattered his trust and love. Shinosuke had taken in a new assistant—this slight first year college student to help with his next dystopian installation. Junmyeon had seen the signs. The late nights, giggling coffee breaks, “accidental” brushes against each other. But he had chalked it up to misplaced paranoia because Shinosuke was still the same, still paid him as much attention as he wanted and more.

But one day, after a long, exhaustive meeting with Jiyong, Junmyeon had trudged home. It was about to snow, Junmyeon could feel it on his nose. He walked inside and he had heard them from the ground floor. His heart had dropped to his feet as he had prayed, futilely, as he walked upstairs in slow, unsure footsteps. The door to _their_ bedroom was ajar. One gentle push, two naked bodies entwined in the most vulgar way. One set of guilty eyes and another set of shocked eyes looked up at him. Junmyeon felt the ground slipping from under his feet. He had said nothing as Shinosuke scrambled to his feet, his nakedness disgusting Junmyeon to no extent.

Junmyeon didn’t hear anything that Shinosuke said. It had started snowing seriously. He didn’t even care about that. He had walked the distance of forty minutes by train on foot under two hours. By the time he was at Minseok’s door, he was shaking, if due to cold or something else, he doesn’t know. He had only cried when Minseok had pulled him into his arms.

Suddenly his phone vibrates. He fishes out of his pocket and it is Jongdae texting him.

 **Jongdae**  
Hey, are you free this evening? I’d like to get dinner together again. You can kiss me again!  
06-19, 13.00

Junmyeon smiles a little, and blushes too at the last sentence. He types out his reply.

 **Junmyeon**  
Sure. Pick me up from Black Pearl from 8?  
06-19, 13.00

 **Jongdae**  
Can we make it for 9? I need to finish some work. The boss is killing me and taking all of my weekend.  
06-19, 13.01

Junmyeon smiles and feels pretty brave as he types...

 **Junmyeon**  
Sure, no problem. Don’t worry, I will kiss your weekend better. ^^  
06-19, 13.02

 **Jongdae**  
>//< looking forward to that then  
06-19, 13.03

Junmyeon bites his lips as he mentally dances at his successful flirting. He drops the phone on his lap and keeps grinning like some madman. He puts a hand over his mouth in case someone sees him. He turns to his side and nearly cries as his gaze falls on this tall man with dark hair standing at the door, his back facing him. The broad shoulders, the tapered waist… _oh please be him_.

Junmyeon gulps and chants “Turn around, turn around” in his head like some prayer to every deity ever. Seems like someone does hear his prayer and the guy turns around. Like a balloon pricked, all the air whooshes out of Junmyeon as he sees that tall guy isn’t Yifan. Well, damn.

Junmyeon scowls and looks out of the window again. Then he wonders what would he have done if it was indeed Yifan? Would he have cancelled his date to go on an impromptu ‘adventure’ with Yifan again (that hopefully could have ended in his bedroom... _oh god, focus_ )? Would he have been that carefree and willing? He chews the inside of his cheek as he ponders. Maybe he finally has his answer regarding his behaviour two weeks ago.

Yifan and he weren’t on a date. There was no frantic urge to impress the other. So Junmyeon didn’t worry and just went with the flow. And Yifan handled the flow well. They met each other without expectations, without any need to impress the other, without the fear of what the other would think if they slip. Yifan was as dorky as Junmyeon was embarrassing around him. They weren’t faking their reactions or feelings around each other. It was like a breath of fresh air. With Jongdae he kept feeling the pressure to keep up his image of a collected, mature person. He didn’t want to disappoint Jongdae. But with Yifan, he had shown him his most disappointing side and Yifan was still there, holding his hands and kissing him senseless.

Junmyeon’s hand reach up to tap his lips. He still remembers how wonderful Yifan’s lips felt. His skin still remembers the warmth of Yifan’s 'yaoi' hands. A chuckle escapes and he hears the man in front of him turn to regard him with such disdainful indifference. He bows his head and tries not to chuckle again.

But he may never meet Yifan again. Junmyeon feels like Yifan had already taken so much of him with him. How is he supposed to get all of himself back and be enough for Jongdae?

The train arrives at his destination. He gets to his feet and gets elbowed hard in his stomach when a small, wiry elderly woman nearly kills him to get his seat. He grumbles all the way to the exit thinking that the woman need not resort to violence and puncture his guts. Old people are batshit crazy nowadays. But the pain stops his thoughts.

He walks to Black Pearl. He enters and walks towards the back, where the employees’ break room is located. Sometimes Minseok and Junmyeon meet for lunch here. The breakroom was half inside and half outside. Today is a nice pleasant day so it doesn’t surprise Junmyeon much when he finds Minseok setting out a table on the wooden patio by a large lily plant. The lilies were in full bloom and the sweet scent managed to make Junmyeon a little giddy.

Minseok looks up and smiles, “Your face tells me Jiyong had you agreeing to something insane again.”

Junmyeon rolls his eyes and sits down with a huff, “You have no idea. The director and voice actor want to meet me to get under the character’s skin.”

“Isn’t that obvious?”

“Yeah but, you know, there is that issue where everyone thinks Kim Ji-n is a woman and not a twenty-five years old guy?”

“Jiyong will take care of that.”

“I know he will.”

Minseok runs back to the kitchen and returns soon after with a big earthen pot. Junmyeon helps him put it down. He can smell the spices and he smiles at Minseok for making Korean food. But the quantity kind of astounds him. He asks, “Um, who are we feeding? An entire village?”

“No. We have guests today. Well, one guest and the rest is for leftovers for me and Karuho.”

“Guest?”

“Remember Oh Sehun?”

“Ah, yes that tall, lanky guy who looks perpetually exhausted? Haven't seen him around in a long time.”

“Yeah. His exams are over and I promised him lunch. He has arrived but he is busy flirting with our new waiter.”

Junmyeon chuckles as he serves the rice. Minseok runs back to the kitchen to get the kimchi. When he returns with said side dish, he also returns with Oh Sehun.

They sit down. Sehun asks, “Long time no see Junmyeon-hyung.”

“Been busy,” Junmyeon cordially smiles. “How did your exams go?”

“Who cares about marks, we should be grateful we still have our health.”

Junmyeon laughs as Minseok chokes on his rice. Minseok says, “As if you would ever flunk.”

“Hyung, do you think engineering is a joke?” Sehun mock glares.

“I know it isn’t and that is why I earn money the easier way,” Minseok retorts.

“Really, one of these days I will die from studying too much, then I will haunt you for the next hundred births, I swear.”

This time Junmyeon chokes on his rice as he hears Minseok and Sehun bickering. The laughter eases him and he allows himself to let the late afternoon sunshine permeate him and chase away the gloomy thoughts that had stuck to him like gossamer since the train ride.

After lunch is over and Sehun and Junmyeon are helping Minseok with the dishes, Sehun says, “You know I discovered this really cool club a while ago.”

“Cool club or more hot people to flirt with there?” Junmyeon asks, by now he understands Sehun better.

“Hyung,” Sehun rolls his eyes and groans. “Fine, one hot guy actually.”

“Oh?” Minseok asks and there is an amused glint in his eyes. Junmyeon swears Minseok has never looked more like a cat.

“Yeah. He is Chinese and he looks like a cat. Zitao is practically dreamy.” There is a glazed look in Sehun’s eyes and the older two cannot help but laugh at that. Sehun whacks his dish-drying towel inches from Minseok’s face.

“You too, huh? Junmyeon has a massive crush on a Chinese dude too,” Minseok grins.

Junmyeon’s face gets hot and red, and Sehun extracts revenge by laughing loudly and obnoxiously in his face. He mutters, “Shut up.”

“Dear hyungs, do you have plans tonight? We could all go together,” Sehun says. “Celebrate my triumph over death as I stare at a final year of notes, formulas and teachers out for my blood!”

“Nah, I got to visit my sister,” Minseok says. “And what will I do among you young people?”

“Minseok you are twenty-six, not sixty-six,” Junmyeon rolls his eyes.

Sehun turns to Junmyeon, “What about you hyung?”

“I got a date.”

Minseok bristles a bit at that. He asks, keeping his voice steady, “With Jongdae?”

“Jongdae is that hyung with the cat-like lips, right?” Sehun asks. He has seen Jongdae before, but not much. Junmyeon nods his head. “Drop by then. We will be there till midnight most probably. Buy me a congratulatory drink hyung! Also, a club is a nice place to get it on, you know what I mean hyung.” The last bit is done with a flourish and punctuated by heavy eyebrow wriggling. Minseok is a terrible influence.

Junmyeon turns redder and looks away as Minseok swallows the odd bulge in his throat. He turns around to wipe the counter as he hears Sehun whining and whining till Junmyeon grudgingly accepts. Minseok bites his lip as he pushes back the disturbing thought that this would be their third date and everyone knows what people do on third dates.

Not his circus, not his monkey. But he thinks the melon is getting bigger and he can definitely feel it pressing against his back, painfully so.

 

Junmyeon goes back home, gets ready and returns to Black Pearl so Jongdae can pick him up. He decided to dress a little better today, so he wore a white shirt and soft wool dress pants. He managed to style his hair in this weird fashion where half of it is up and the other half isn’t but the end result is nice and he thinks it works, so he goes with it. He briefly wondered if he should wear contact lenses or not, but then skips it because Jongdae had already seen him in spectacles and who the fuck cares.

He catches Minseok’s eye as he walks in. Minseok gives a thumbs up as he gives Junmyeon a once over. Junmyeon just shakes his head and takes a seat by the window. They were near closing time, so a few patrons remained and the other employees are cleaning up. Minseok saunters over and sits down. He says, “You look nice for a change.”

“Huh, thank you,” Junmyeon says.

Minseok looks down at his small hands on the table and sighs. He hasn’t told Junmyeon about Luhan yet. He wonders if it would help to talk to him.

Junmyeon catches Minseok’s weird behaviour. He asks, “Hey, everything okay?”

Minseok shakes his head. “I met Luhan a few days ago. Here at my café.”

“What? You mean the same Luhan you used to date once upon a time?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh,” Junmyeon taps on Minseok’s knuckle. “What happened?”

“I…I lied to you,” Minseok sighs.

“What do you mean?” Junmyeon feels antsy.

“I was the one who broke up with Luhan, not the other way round.”

“What?” Junmyeon frowns. “But you said he dumped you.”

“No. I did. And you will hate me after this.”

Junmyeon leans back and coolly regards his friend. He really doesn’t know where this conversation is going, but he can tell Minseok wants to talk and he will listen. Minseok continues, “I walked out on him. I freaked out because I thought nineteen was too young to be tied down to a serious relationship and left him without any explanation. He had made dinner for me that day and even bought my favourite wine. I found him passed out, so I quietly packed my things and left. And when I met him again, for the first time in eight years, you cannot imagine the guilt I fell Myeonie. I felt like a fucking criminal.” Minseok puts his hands on his face.

Junmyeon keeps frowning, processing Minseok’s words. Finally, he says, “You should. What you told about Luhan to me, I used to think he was the best fucking boyfriend in the world. So it kind of mystified me when you said he dumped you. And it made me even more confused when you didn’t look too upset. I wondered why. Now I know, and I won’t lie that I kind of dislike you right now. Luhan didn’t deserve that.”

Minseok puts down his hands and looks at his best friend of twenty years. He can trust Junmyeon to be blunt and tell him the things he needs to hear. And he needed to hear that. He says, “I want to apologise. I did him wrong. He didn’t deserve me.”

“You were nineteen and a fucking asshole. But it is good to know you realise that. You do, right?”

Minseok slowly nods his head. “But I don’t know how to contact him.”

“He knows you work here. He will find you.”

“But why will he come to me?”

“Because like you, I don’t think he moved on either. I haven’t met him but I feel like he will return and ask you for that explanation. He deserves that much from you.”

“Maybe. I will just have to wait then.”

Junmyeon sighs, “You both need the closure.”

Minseok startles, “Why do I need closure?”

“Isn’t that the reason why none of your relationships have lasted more than three weeks? Because somewhere deep down, you wanted to be forgiven?”

Minseok’s eyes widen as Junmyeon’s words hit the right place. He whispers, “I need to think about this.” He gets to his feet. “My sister is waiting for me.” Then he smiles at something behind Junmyeon, “Oh, your date is here.”

Junmyeon turns around and sure, Jongdae is here. He is dressed in black trousers and this pale teal shirt that is rolled off, showing off those well-muscled arms. Unbeknownst to Jongdae who is talking to someone on the phone, both friends are busy ogling him.

Minseok thinks Jongdae is easily the most attractive man ever and the melon had sprouted vines and those vines are slowly wrapping themselves around him. He feels slightly breathless. He shouts, “Jongdae!” That gets Jongdae’s attention who strolls over to them.

Junmyeon thinks what is he doing again, lying to himself and to Jongdae. Today he is going to tell Jongdae to sign up for disappointment. He can no longer perform under the pressure of being this perfect human being.

Junmyeon stands up and they say goodbye to Minseok as they step out of Black Pearl. Jongdae looks at Junmyeon, from head to toe. He smirks as Junmyeon starts blushing. He says, “So, where to?”

“Uh,” Junmyeon suddenly remembers Sehun’s invitation. “Can we make a detour before dinner? There is a dongsaeng I know and I have promised him to buy him a drink in lieu of him giving his exams and not dying while at it.”

Jongdae laughs, his lips curling up in the most adorable way. “Sure! Where do we go?”

It takes them less than twenty minutes to get to Omotesando in Harajuku from Shin-Okubo. The club has been here for a while and attracts the best and worst of Harajuku. Junmyeon always feels underdressed when coming to Harajuku. But Jongdae doesn’t seem to mind as he gawks at a man in the most sequinned shirt ever. He says, “I can only pull that off in my wildest dreams. Okay, maybe not even then.”

They soon find Two Moons and Junmyeon spends a little more time at the entrance staring at the front, appreciating the simplistic design of a new moon and full moon done up in clean, simple lines. Oh, how Junmyeon loves clean lines! This appeals to his aesthetic sense a lot.

Jongdae finally pushes him in and the interiors leave Junmyeon gasping. The décor is done up in shades of black, blue and silver. It is kind of futuristic but at the same time not completely. Behind him Jongdae says, “Wow. Why have I never been here before?”

“Are you the clubbing kind?” Junmyeon asks.

“Nope.”

“Then why would you.”

Jongdae laughs again, this time Junmyeon grins along. Then a shout of “Hyung!” distracts him and he looks around till he spots a tall figure draped over the bar counter waving his hand at his direction.

Junmyeon drags Jongdae along and introductions are made. Sehun had brought three of his friends with him—one girl and two boys. The girl and one of the boys turn out to be Korean, and a couple.

The Korean boy, Kim Jongin, smiles, and Junmyeon is astounded by his beauty for a second, “Sehun keeps all the hyungs to himself. It is always nice to meet a fellow Korean.”

“Now buy me my drink!” Sehun shouts.

“Yes, buy him something before he goes back to harass people,” the sole Japanese boy, Hajime says.

Jongdae asks, “Harass people?”

“Look,” the girl, Soojung says, pointing across to a tall man with black hair mixing drinks. “That is Zitao and Sehun has been shamelessly flirting with him for days now.”

“I am wooing him!” Sehun protests.

“Woo? Does wooing include telling the other how wonderful their leather pants look on them? Bro, do you even know what the word woo means? Look it up in a dictionary because it doesn’t usually mean ogling like a lolicon pervert at leather-clad asses,” Hajime says.

Besides Sehun, all of them start laughing. Zitao saunters over and casually leans across the counter. Sehun visibly flusters when he realises Zitao is too close. Up close, Junmyeon cannot help but admire the bartender's sharp features and olive skin—seems like Oh Sehun has good choice.

“Ready to order?” Zitao asks, his lips curling deviously at a corner.

Sehun gulps and seems to have lost his cool. Junmyeon tries not to laugh. He places a steady hand on Sehun’s back and says to Zitao, “I think he wants to be surprised. Besides that, I would like a whiskey,” he looks over at Jongdae who mouths the same, “Make that two whiskeys.”

“Two whiskeys on the rocks?” Zitao asks and Junmyeon nods. Then Zitao fixes his sharp eyes on Sehun, “You get a Blow Job then.”

Soojung presses her face on Jongin’s shoulder while Jongin hides behind Hajime; Junmyeon bites down hard on his lip while Jongdae tries to look elsewhere, hand on his mouth. Basically they are all trying not to laugh as Sehun turns fifty shades of red as Zitao walks away (not before winking at Sehun).

When the object of his temptation is gone, Sehun gasps, “What.”

Hajime snickers, “That is a cocktail.”

Soojung laughs, “ _Cock_ tail.”

The entire group breaks into hysterics as Sehun grumbles and tries not to sweat too much.

They are still laughing at Sehun when a deep voice says behind Junmyeon, “Two whiskeys on the rocks?”

Junmyeon turns around and times comes to a standstill. All he can see are the familiar pair of deep eyes and plump lips, that has haunted his conscious, subconscious and unconscious for days now. His mouth drops down on its own accord.

The bartender mirrors his expression.

Wu Yifan stands in front of him in the tightest black t-shirt and _oh holy fucking shit is that eyeliner_?

 

Yifan is in a meeting room, poring over his new contract. His manager says, his fingers impatiently tapping on the table, “The mangaka has agreed to meet.”

“Yeah, but why is there a confidentiality clause here, and why do I have to sign it?” Yifan asks.

“Kwon Jiyong says you will know when you see the reason why.”

“What is that supposed to mean! Who is Kim Ji-n and why does the contract says that I need to keep her identity a secret? I mean I know who Kim Ji-n is. Everybody knows who she is!” He knows who Kim Ji-n is for sure. In fact, he even has read the manga they are adapting— _Blue Moon Over the Jasmine Hills_ —and had cried a little at the tragic ending (which is a well-guarded secret because if Luhan or Zitao ever got to know…). He respects her work, but he thinks this contract is a bit ridiculous, and not to mention utterly mysterious.

“Yifan,” his manager, Akechi Yoshi sighs. “No one knows what Kim Ji-n looks like. The public has never seen her.”

“Oh.” Now Yifan gets it. He picks up the pen and signs his initials at the dotted line. “Okay, I can respect her privacy. It is only fair. I need to portray Miyazaki efficiently.”

“I know you can do it,” Yoshi beams at him. Yifan smirks back. They are, after all, lifting quite a heavy pay cheque from this anime adaptation. “Oh, before I forget, the meeting is scheduled on Monday at ten in the morning. Head over to Blue Dragon Publications at Gaienmae. I will text you the complete address later.”

“Mm ok,” Yifan glances at his watch. “I am getting late for my other job.”

Yifan leaves soon after. He has his shift at Two Moons today, the club he works at. He works there five days a week—on Monday, Wednesday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Today is a Saturday, which means he would have to tolerate Zitao for eight hours. His soul wants to leave his body already. Then he remembers that he gets nice tips and he won’t ever pass an opportunity to get some easy money on the side.

Sometimes, he thanks his parents for his face. Men and women alike like staring at him, enjoy flirting with him (Wu Yifan is magically cool when that happens) and then tip him very kindly, hoping they would get his attention next time. And Yifan does remember some of them. Like that Sehun kid who is terribly smitten by Zitao, who is aware and loves teasing the student to no extent. Sometimes Yifan says a small prayer for Sehun’s wellbeing. How anyone can like Huang Zitao is confusing…

He steps down at the station and bumps against a girl dressed like some anime character. He vaguely realises it must be a character from an ecchi anime he had watched (read: endured) a long time ago. He shudders at that memory.

It is twenty minutes to six. So he still has some time to prepare himself. There is a reason why he and Zitao were hired in the first place at Two Moons—they are good at mixing drinks, working the customers and not bad to look at while at it. It is no secret that Yifan and Zitao are the favourites, which means that at times those two engage in subvert competitions like who gets the most tips, who gets the most numbers scrawled on used tissues or who gets more highly inappropriate drunken propositions in one night. It is always amusing.

Zitao exits the changing room and throws a cold nod at Yifan, who glares back. Zitao hadn’t left Yifan’s apartment that night and had ordered takeout using the emergency money Yifan kept in his cookie jar without Yifan’s permission. Then Zitao had used Yifan’s pillow as his personal saliva receptacle—that is, Zitao drools in his sleep. Yifan very nearly kneed him in his gut. So for the last few days, relations between those two had been Artic. Well, mostly on Yifan’s part because he doesn’t appreciate people drooling over his pillow. Zitao let his ge have his little childish fit. He knows it wouldn’t last long.

He enters the changing room and takes off his red Iron Man t-shirt. He puts on this ridiculously tight black t-shirt with a V-neck that stretched over his chest, putting his collarbones on display like nobody’s business (he feels almost naked in this). The t-shirt is Armani and had been a gift from Luhan who got it as a freebie when he was the face of Armani Jeans for a year. Even the black skinny jeans he drags over his mile-long legs is a freebie (Luhan had said, “I don’t need expensive clothes to look good, but you do.” Yifan had rolled his eyes but accepted the gifts anyway because he knew he cannot afford Armani without saving for it for at least a few dozen months; also he knew Luhan didn't have the body to pull it off). Next he works on his hair, using a gel that has a soft hold, making his midnight black hair swoop over one eyebrow casually. Then he takes out the black eyeliner pencil that he had stolen from Luhan when the other wasn’t looking (what Luhan doesn’t know won’t kill him).

At the very beginning, during the last year of his college when he had taken this job, he had no idea how to put on eyeliner, even stabbing himself in the eye the first time because fuck he is basically pointing a stick in his eyeball, _how do other people do it_. But now, after five years, he is a pro, well nearly. He still occasionally stabs himself in the eye. He ( _very_ carefully) swipes it on his waterline, then under his lashes. He uses his pinkie finger to lightly smudge it. Then he takes the smudging further to the corner of his eyes, elongating the wing. He knows how that affects patrons. He smirks at his reflection. Before he forgets, he puts his earrings on, two rings on the left and one on his right.

It is funny (even to him) how well his real personality gets eclipsed by his appearance. People expect him to be cool, calm and dangerous when he is actually a dork, sometimes anxious and is as dangerous as a kitten, or even less than that. He folds his discarded clothes and stuffs them in the locker.

He exits the changing room and the manager, Daisuke Hana, smirks at him, “Only if you were straight and I wasn’t married.”

“And pregnant,” Yifan jokes. Hana has always been like this, teasing him at every opportunity. And he lets her. She saved him from poverty after all at the tender age of twenty-one. He could have left after his breakthrough voiceover job but he remained, because he liked working here and honestly, voice acting jobs are few and between. He appreciates a steady flow of income because Tokyo is expensive to live in.

“Hmm,” Hana smiles as she rubs her hand over the tiny bump on her stomach. Her pretty round face glows nowadays. She just entered her second trimester. Her maternity leave starts soon as the owner ordered that a club was no place for woman with a baby to work in, so he allowed for an early leave. The smile disappears when she looks at her watch. “Where is that idiot? It will be opening time in another thirty minutes!”

Another idiot is a short, obnoxious Korean man named Lee Seunghyun, the other manager. Hana didn’t do the night shift anymore.

Yifan leaves her fuming at the entrance as he slinks away to get behind the counter. He first takes stock of all they need for tonight. It is a Saturday, there will be more people, so more than normal alcohol consumption is obvious. He checks the ice box. Then he looks over at Zitao busy wiping glasses. He asks, “Where is our other comrade?”

“Miyuki said she will be here at eight today. Extra classes,” Zitao replies.

“Okay.” Miyuki is the part-time bartender only coming in during the weekends since she is still in college. Like Yifan, Miyuki too, came here to look for work so she can stop eating instant ramen four times a day. Miyuki is a short, cute thing that looks like can be easily taken advantage of, but Yifan and Zitao knew what she truly is—a complete terror. But only towards unruly customers, not to them thankfully.

Soon it is seven and people start trickling in one by one. Seunghyun arrives, not before Hana admonishing him severely. Yifan slips into being Kris, his bartending alter ego, who is smooth and is highly capable of impressing people as he mixes drinks, his large hands helping him along.

He doesn’t realise when three hours go by. But his waist aches a little. Miyuki sees it. She touches his lower back and says, “Onee-chan, take a break, I will take over.”

Yifan just nods and goes to the changing rooms to lie down. He promises himself thirty minutes as he takes a power nap. His body wakes him up after thirty minutes. He stretches and saunters over to the mirror. He peers at his reflection and is glad that his hair and makeup is still in place. He walks out and sees Zitao measuring one part Baileys. He walks closer to see a shot glass already filled partly with Kahlua. He eyes the whipped cream canister and accordingly groans, “Who are you making that for?” He knows what kind of shooter drink Zitao is making.

“Sehun,” Zitao smirks.

Yifan raises an eyebrow, “Does that mean you, I mean…”

“He is cute. Gets flustered easily. I find that adorable. I want to see when I tell him a Blow Job should be drunk without using hands.”

Yifan resists the urge to slam his head on the counter. Zitao counters, “Anyway, can you get two sixty Yamazaki on rocks? The drinks go to the group Sehun is with.”

Yifan nods as he gets the drinks. He glances over at where Sehun is sitting with his group around him. They are all laughing at Sehun. He walks over, two crystal cut glasses in both hands. A man in a white shirt is standing, leaning on the counter, his back faces him. Something about the pale neck and shoulders look extremely familiar. He puts down the drink, and uses his ‘on-duty’ voice, “Two whiskeys on the rocks?”

The man in the white shirt turns around and Yifan’s jaw unhinges. _Motherfucking Kim Junmyeon looking like a wet dream in a white shirt and black framed glasses is gaping back at him_.

Time stops. The general buzz of the crowd dims down. As if Yifan got tunnel vision and all he can see is Junmyeon. Junmyeon in that white shirt, rolled up to his elbows; Junmyeon in the black spectacles framing his face in the most delectable way; Junmyeon with his small pink lips opening and closing, his eyes widening in surprise and recognition. Yifan forgets to breathe. And wonders what he did so good today that the universe presented him this.

“Junmyeon?” a short man with curled lips gently nudges Junmyeon, who whips his head around. “You okay?”

Junmyeon takes the glasses from Yifan’s hands, their fingers brushing. An electric spark travels up both their hands. Their eyes meet again and Yifan’s heart races while Junmyeon forgets how lungs work. He turns to look at the man beside him, “Uh, no. I am okay. It is nothing.” He looks back at Yifan, “Uh, th-thank you.”

Yifan nods as Zitao comes to stand beside him. Junmyeon takes a small sip, eyes never leaving Yifan’s.

Yifan’s skin sizzles under that gaze. He swallows the strange heat passing through his body. He feels the ropes of attraction pulling him towards the man whose kiss has been imprinted deep in his mind. He resists as he turns to pay attention to Zitao and Sehun. Junmyeon does the same, feeling all out of sorts.

Junmyeon tries to regulate his breathing. Fuck, why does Yifan look so hot in eyeliner? He already thought Yifan had intense eyes, but the black under his lashes nearly makes his knees weak and he wants to do something stupid, like jump over the counter and kiss Yifan. But he is not the one for exhibitionism and he is pretty sure he might die trying to jump a counter that high. So he takes another sip as he watches Zitao telling Sehun to take the shooter without using his hands.

Yifan serves another customer.  But all he sees is Junmyeon in glasses and he thinks he has never seen anything sexier. It just complimented his cheekbones and flawless skin, managing to highlight that small, pink mouth more and making him look matured and appealing in a very sexy-librarian kind of way. His mind keeps running back to Junmyeon as he pours out a half vodka, and he can feel his gaze. He knows Junmyeon is watching, so he looks over his shoulder. Their eyes meet and Yifan watches Junmyeon gulping. _Oh_.

They don’t pay attention to the antics around them. Zitao promises Sehun his number if he takes the shot. And Sehun rises to the challenge, and wins. Zitao smirks and does as he promised, not before licking the cream at the corner of Sehun’s lips. Catcalls and whistles are barely heard, as Junmyeon slips down his high stool, tells Jongdae he needs to use the washroom and marches over.

Lucky for him, the backdoor is beside the washroom which has a mile-long line. He pays no heed to the EMPLOYEES ONLY written in bold, red letters as he opens the door and walks out in the humid June night. He takes a deep, long breath. Seeing Yifan and feeling the tension, the blistering heat in the gazes got too much for him. Also, he hopes Yifan comes after him.

Junmyeon’s heart is beating louder and harder than ever. He can feel every thud against his ribs. He hears the door open and he doesn’t even have to look when a large hand gently pushes him against the cement wall. His back is pressed against a wall and in front of him stands a six feet tall male radiating so much heat, Junmyeon feels dizzy. He cranes his neck up and his smiles, “Wu Yifan.” He doesn’t know how but his voice comes out in a raspy breath.

“Kim Junmyeon,” Yifan says in a whisper. He places a hand on Junmyeon’s neck, whose eyes flutter at the warm, rough touch. “I dreamt about your moles.” His eyes sweep down the pale, exposed expanse of Junmyeon’s neck. “You got another mole on your neck.” He licks his lips. “And never wear contacts again please.”

Junmyeon sees Yifan’s small tongue lick his lower, plump lip. Something like desire skitters down his belly. He grabs the front of Yifan’s tight, black t-shirt. The fabric bunches in his hands and the cloth pulls, until the top of Yifan’s pectoral is visible. Yifan comes a little bit closer, and Junmyeon’s head reels at the strong, heady scent. Yifan’s finger stroke the soft hair on his nape. Yifan dips his head, his lips a hair breadth away from Junmyeon’s lips. His whispers, “Is this okay?”

Junmyeon closes his eyes and sighs. Gosh, why does this feel so right? He knows Yifan of a grand total of one day. And here he is, aching to be kissed by Yifan again. This dangerous pull he felt, he doesn’t know how to understand it. He knows he doesn’t need words, doesn’t need to understand any more. He wants to _feel_. He wants this so damn bad. He did wonder what would happen if he did get to see Yifan again. The rational side told him he would, maybe, talk first. But the other, more irrational side knew he would want to kiss Yifan again because one hit was addictive enough and now he can finally get his fix. Right now, the irrational side roars in victory.

Yifan sees Junmyeon’s eyes shutting and he wonders if he would say no, even though his body is speaking in another language. A language where the blood feels too hot, and there is electricity under skin and fuck, the proximity is damn near killing him. Junmyeon has been a constant thought for two weeks now. To have him right now, in his arms, feels surreal. It is like there is melted magnets under Junmyeon’s fingertips and he cannot be helped but get closer to him.

Junmyeon lets go of the shirt and traces Yifan’s collarbones with a finger. He smirks when Yifan shivers a little. He breathes, “ _Yes_.”

And all those phantom touches, in dreams and thoughts becomes all too real. There is a crackling in the air now that they are so close, a sense of anticipation like the coiled silence before the boom of thunder.

With a soft groan, Yifan seals his mouth over Junmyeon’s. _Fucking finally_.

Junmyeon lets out a muffled, satisfied groan as he pushes his fingers into Yifan’s hair to hold him and kiss him back, his tongue sliding along Yifan’s, stroking. He feels Yifan’s hand tightening around him, crushing him against his chest. Junmyeon nearly cries in relief. _This_ is what he has been missing.

Sometimes all a spark needs is the right wind to turn it into an inferno, but on the other hand, the wrong wind could have the spark cooling down into nothing. You feel warm for a second or you could continue feeling the heat slowly smouldering in your veins.

Yifan and Junmyeon feel it, the heat in their blood. Yifan pushes Junmyeon against the wall and pushes one knee in between the latter’s legs. Junmyeon holds onto Yifan for support as the taller licks along his lower lip. Junmyeon feels like disintegrating.

The weather chose to be on the warm side today. It gets too hot as two bodies press against each other, leaving no empty space. Junmyeon wants to melt while Yifan wants to meld. Yifan tilts Junmyeon’s head to a side, so he his tongue could explore more the sweet, sweet cavern of Junmyeon’s mouth. He swallows the moan Junmyeon lets out.

But Junmyeon feels lightheaded, he needs air. He tears his mouth away with much difficulty. Yifan doesn’t stop as his mouth travels lower, kissing his chin, then dipping below his jaw and nipping there. Junmyeon whimpers, “ _Yifan_.” His glasses are askew, and there is condensation on it. Maybe he should have taken them off.

Yifan puts his large hands around Junmyeon’s waist and holds him still as his mouth maps a trail from his jaw to the base of his neck, having popped the third button on his shirt when he wasn’t noticing. Then Junmyeon groans as Yifan’s teeth find purchase there and he sucks the skin, his tongue soothing the harsh bite. Junmyeon is now certain Yifan has a mole fetish.

But Junmyeon wants a taste too. He tugs at Yifan’s hair to pull him away. Yifan does, not before sending Junmyeon a confused look. Junmyeon doesn’t explain as he dips his head and licks along Yifan’s jawline. The deep growl he hears has rash, blind desire winding stronger in Junmyeon who reaches up and licks at the outer shell of Yifan’s ear, his tongue tracing the cool silver of his earrrings. With his teeth he tugs a little at the ring which has Yifan growling in that deep, deep voice. Next, Yifan throws his head back as Junmyeon returns to his jaw and bites and sucks a trail all along the smooth column of his neck. Finally, Junmyeon reaches those collarbones that had all his attention since he saw Yifan leaning across the counter, ice and alcohol in his hands. He places open mouthed kisses all across and he feels Yifan’s knees pressing closer to his crotch. _Oh fuck_.

Junmyeon reaches up again and silently pulls Yifan down for another kiss. This time, they take it a bit slow as Yifan’s tongue languidly slides with Junmyeon’s. He pulls back to kiss the line of moles behind his ear. He growls, “Can I take you home?”

“Yifan, oh God y—” Junmyeon almost says yes when he remembers. Jongdae. _Shit, shit, fuck_! He detangles himself and pushes Yifan a little away from himself. Yifan looks confused again. And Junmyeon hates that, and mostly hates himself. He explains, “I came here with my date.”

 _Date_? Yifan’s clouded mind tries to remember that short man in the teal shirt nudging and talking with Junmyeon because the other three men he knew, he has seen Sehun, Jongin and Hajime multiple times. He walks back and runs a finger through his hair, lately realising that he probably ruined his own hairstyle. Junmyeon probably ruined it before he did. He looks down at Junmyeon and his breath catches.

Junmyeon’s eyes are wide behind his spectacles and he can see the lust in them, his hair is a mess and Yifan can see his handiwork bruising a vivid red against the backdrop of waxen skin. For a moment he thinks how gorgeous Junmyeon is. And suddenly he remembers too big eyes and bigger lips. He scoots backwards some more.

Junmyeon opens his mouth to say something, anything, when his phone rings and The Weeknd sounds like a foghorn in the strained silence. He fumbles before he finds his phone in his pocket. He tries to calm himself as he sees it is Minseok’s sister calling. He takes the call, “Hello?”

“Oh my god hyung! Please come over! Hyung was in an accident. He is injured and please, please come over!” Minah cries uncontrollably.

Fear replaces want and he takes a shaky breath, “Minah calm down. I will be there, tell me where to go.” He listens carefully before disconnecting. Yifan is standing by the door when their gazes lock and Junmyeon says, “I need to go. My friend has been in an accident.”

Yifan slowly nods his head and walks inside without another word. Junmyeon’s knees feel like jelly. In between kissing Yifan again and Minseok in a hospital, he is not quite sure what to feel.

 _And fuck, he didn’t take his phone number again_!

 

Luhan shoot is with Harper Bazaar’s today. Even though it is summer, he is wearing a white sweater with pretty flowers on his chest and something written in French (or is it Latin? He is Chinese, he doesn’t care). Kyungsoo isn’t here today. However, that doesn’t stop him from thinking what happened the day after he met Minseok.

Yifan had woken up after him, and had been relieved to see Luhan in his kitchen sipping tea. Yifan couldn’t join him for breakfast as he had an early morning recording, so he left, not before offering to go with him if he wanted to talk to Minseok. Luhan said okay to that. Yifan seemed pleased with his reaction.

Fifteen minutes later when Luhan was contemplating whether he wanted to make breakfast or just eat out, his doorbell rings. He thought Yifan had left something behind, so he hurriedly made over to the door. He opened the door to see Kyungsoo, freshly showered and holding up a packet of something delicious (Luhan has excellent olfactory senses).

“Kyungsoo?” Luhan blinked.

“Good morning. Is Yifan here?” Kyungsoo asked as Luhan let him in.

“No, he left not too long ago.”

“Oh. Never mind, I got you breakfast.” Kyungsoo had been at his place many times before, so he knew how to navigate the kitchen. He set the plates and cutlery. Then he took out two plastic containers and opened them in quick succession. The steam rose and the smell felt extremely nostalgic. So Luhan scurried over and gasped.

One container contains _doufu nao_ or brain tofu that actually has nothing to do with brains (Luhan remembered being five and served doufu nao for breakfast for the first time in his life and he had caused a tantrum because he wasn’t going to eat anybody’s brain). The soft tofu dish is covered in sesame oil, chilli oil, boiled peanuts, mushrooms and bits of beef. He had grown to love it very much since he was a kid (the second time turned him into a fan). Especially the one his grandmother made.

The other container revealed a small stack of _jidan guanbing_ or egg-based pancakes rolled around healthy proportions of lettuce, sausage and a nice slathering of sweet hoisin sauce. Luhan’s mouth started watering at the spread. But before he could dig in, he asked Kyungsoo, “Where did you get all this from?”

Kyungsoo smiled and passed him chopsticks before sitting down. “An elderly Chinese woman and his widowed son had moved in last month. I greeted them in my terrible Mandarin and ever since aunty has been inviting me every Saturday and Sunday for dinner. Last night I told her about a Chinese friend who wasn’t feeling too well, so this morning I wake up to find her at my doorstep, explaining in terrible Japanese that I should bring these to you. Said, it might make you feel better.”

Luhan didn’t know if it was the food, the backstory or the fact that Kyungsoo _cared_ so much, but he felt his eyes watering and before he could stop himself, he started sobbing. That alarmed Kyungsoo who scooted closer to him and put his hand in Luhan’s shoulder. He softly said, “Luhan?”

“Nothing,” Luhan wiped his tears. “Aunty is from Beijing like me. Tell her thanks.”

“I will.” Kyungsoo smiled and Luhan’s chest tightened, but not in the bad way. He thought he saw something akin to adoration in Kyungsoo’s eyes.

Presently, Luhan stares straight ahead as an assistant fixes his makeup. Try as he might, he cannot forget the sweet smile he got to see in his kitchen on Wednesday. It was beautiful.

So before he can stop himself, he writes a quick text to Kyungsoo.

 **Luhan**  
Let’s meet at Two Moons for drinks.  
As a thank you for breakfast?  
06-19, 18.34

 **Kyungsoo**  
Aunty made that breakfast.  
06-19, 18.36

 **Luhan**  
Do you want me to take a 60+ woman to a club?  
06-19, 18.36

 **Luhan**  
Also, Yifan works there.  
06-19, 18.37

 **Kyungsoo**  
Fair point.  
06-19,18.37

 **Kyungsoo**  
-_- just text me the address you fool  
06-19, 18.38

 **Luhan**  
O_O You are starting to sound like Yifan OMFG  
06-19, 18.38

 **Kyungsoo**  
Just give me the address and no one gets hurt  
06-19, 18.40

 **Luhan**  
K  
06-19, 18.40

 **Kyungsoo**  
One of these days, I will kill you  
06-19, 18.41

Luhan giggles before sending Kyungsoo the address. He puts down his phone as the photographer’s assistant calls him to the set again.

The shoot goes on for two more hours, so by the time Luhan is free, it is nearing nine. He decides to skip getting new clothes from his apartment and go over to Two Moons directly. However, the traffic is not on his side, and it is nearly ten when he gets to the club. The first thing he notices as he parks his car, is Kyungsoo standing in the parking lot, hips pressed against the bonnet of a car. Luhan gets down and jogs over. He grins, “Yo! Why did you not go in?”

“I was waiting for you, obviously,” Kyungsoo says, rolling his eyes.

“You know you wouldn’t have been alone, because as I said Yifan works here?”

“I know. But I am not the clubbing kind.”

“Okay? I don’t know where this conversation is going.”

Kyungsoo whacks him on his head and grabs his elbow. He drags Luhan along who complains that he is the older and how nobody respects him. Kyungsoo pretends not to hear him.

The enter the club and the crowd is impressive. Kyungsoo groans, “I hate crowds.”

“There, there. Yifan will give you a free drink for your troubles, I am sure,” Luhan rubs Kyungsoo’s shoulder.

Kyungsoo still had his hand on Luhan’s elbow. He seems to realise that when someone shouts for Luhan and Kyungsoo extricates himself, not before his ears turning red. Luhan doesn’t notice that.

Luhan walks to the counter and sits down. He starts talking to this tall, very good-looking guy with slanted eyes in Mandarin. Kyungsoo gingerly takes a seat beside him. Seriously, loud music, neon lights is not how he spends his weekends. Though he does appreciate the décor.

Luhan introduces the tall man as Zitao who says, addressing Kyungsoo, “You don’t look legal.”

Kyungsoo narrows his eyes and a smart comeback is on the tip of his tongue when two things happen: Luhan laughs in Zitao’s face and tells him something about fists and homicide; and Yifan saunters over looking like some model in a very tight t-shirt and _is that eyeliner_?

Luhan waves at Yifan, “Dude! Look who I brought with me!”

Yifan can see who Luhan brought with him. He rolls his eyes at Luhan but throws a dazzling smile at Kyungsoo, who feels a little hot under his collar. The only thing Kyungsoo can thinks of right now is _Why is he so short and why is Yifan so hot and what is he doing about his Luhan issue_?

Luhan orders something for himself while Yifan focuses his attention on Kyungsoo. The shorter man is busy staring at Yifan’s chest when he sees small bruises along the latter’s collarbones. He doesn’t think too much about them (he also doesn’t think too much about the panicked gleam he noticed in Yifan’s eyes) as he puts his elbows on the counter and grins, “Why do you look like a different person every time I see you?”

Yifan grins and leans in, “I keep trying on different looks. So which one do you like?”

“Definitely this one. Or maybe that one with your hair down. The jury is still out on that.”

Yifan laughs. “Since this is your first time here, you get a free drink, courtesy of me.”

Kyungsoo bites his lip and nods his head. Yifan goes over to the other side of the bar.

Luhan who had finished his first drink, had watched his two friends flirt and a boulder lodged somewhere near his gut. He could see how interested they are in each other. This isn’t supposed to suck so much, but it does. He makes eye contact with Zitao and shouts, “Another Jamaican Paradise please!”

Zitao grins and gets to work. Meanwhile Yifan returns with a glass of something orange. He puts the glass in front of him and smirks, “I think you will like it.”

Kyungsoo frowns before taking the chilled glass. He takes a small, tentative sip. His eyes widen as the flavours burst on his tongue and he can taste the salt, the sea, something fruity and the heat. He gasps and he looks up at Yifan, “What is this? I have never had anything like this!”

“It is called a Vampira. It is tequila-based.”

“I do like it. But why does it taste like the sea?”

“That is a secret.” Yifan winks and Kyungsoo giggles. Beside him, Luhan downs another Jamaican Paradise.

“There is hot sauce in it, right?”

Yifan nods his head. “Yep.”

“I really like it,” Kyungsoo takes a bigger sip. “How did you know?”

“I saw you eating wasabi like no one’s business that day.” Luhan orders another Jamaican Paradise.

“You are observant. And it is sort of amazing how you figured what kind of cocktail I would like from that!”

“Well, I did tell you I get good tips.”

“Yeah.” There is a small curl on one corner of his lips.

“So, do you want another one?”

“Yep!”

Yifan grins and walks aside again. Kyungsoo turns to look over Luhan who is furiously sipping a blue coloured drink. He asks, “What is that?”

“Jamaican Paradise,” Luhan says. “I like this.”

“I can see that,” Kyungsoo sees the two empty glasses. He looks over to see that the tip of Luhan’s ears have turned pink. Luhan is on his way to getting drunk. Whoever says cocktails are light never consider just how much alcohol goes in making them.

Yifan returns with another Vampira, and Kyungsoo thinks that is Jamaican Paradise in his other hand. Yifan puts the orange cocktail in front of Kyungsoo and keeps holding the blue one. He says, “Luhan? This is your fourth cocktail. I don’t have to tell you how much coconut rum are in these.”

“Fanfan, shut up. I paid for those.” Luhan makes grabby hands at the glass. Yifan looks unwilling but Luhan smacks him hard on his hand. Yifan shakes his head and puts the glass in front of Luhan anyway.

Right then a swell of people arrive and Yifan sadly tells them that he will have to go attend to them. Kyungsoo smiles to assure him. He orders a beer for himself next as he finishes the Vampira and turns around to see that Luhan is not in his seat. He frantically looks everywhere, until he notices a purple head of hair among the mass of people dancing. And Kyungsoo thinks that is a girl grinding against him.

Luhan has had enough. The flirting, the smirks, the gazes, he had seen them all and he felt irritated. He downs four drinks in quick succession, thus the rum hits him harder. He gets up when no one notices and manages to snatch two shot glasses from a table when no one is looking. He downs them both. He winces when he realises it is tequila. The alcohol makes his feet restless, so he heads over to the dance floor, the bass reverberating through his muscles.

He gets in the middle and sways his head. The beat falls in place with his heartbeat. He notices a girl ogling at him, so he curls a finger at her direction. She comes over and Luhan grins wolfishly. He doesn’t know how, but soon she is grinding her butt against his crotch and he allows it. If only it would avoid the thought of his friends falling for each other. Especially when he is himself falling for one of them. The one with the owlish eyes and beautiful smile. The one whose hair is the fluffiest thing on earth. The one who loves wearing black too much. The one with the soft skin. The one with the small hands. The one looks like a squish but is one of the strongest, most reliable and caring person on earth (he is still cute though).

Suddenly he feels a strong grip on his arm. He turns around to see Kyungsoo and he can see the glare under the black light. Kyungsoo says something to the girl who scoots away scared. Luhan hardly registers that. The alcohol surges through his senses. He feels Kyungsoo trying to drag him away. But he digs his heel in. He shakes his head, “No.”

“Luhan, you are drunk,” Kyungsoo says in a harsh voice.

“No!” Luhan shouts and wrenches his hand from Kyungsoo’s grip. “What the fuck do you care?”

“What do you mean?” Kyungsoo shouts back, inching closer. Someone pushes him, so he falls against Luhan’s chest.

Luhan wraps his hands around Kyungsoo and holds him prisoner. Kyungsoo squirms a bit, but stops when Luhan says, “Why do you care?”

“I am your friend.” Kyungsoo is so confused at Luhan’s strange behaviour. The music is too loud but his heart is louder.

“Friends huh?” Luhan smirks. “Do friends think about kissing their friends all the time?” A sober Luhan would never have been this careless with his words, but his tongue is loose and he wants to push his boundaries. See how far he goes before he eventually falls.

“What do you mean?” Kyungsoo whispers, his eyes widening.

“I mean this,” Luhan cups Kyungsoo’s face and leans in, capturing Kyungsoo’s lush lips. He feels rather than hear the tiny gasp that Kyungsoo emits, before he feels fingers in his hair, grabbing hard. Soon, it is Luhan getting the surprise of his lifetime when he feels Kyungsoo’s tongue swiping over his lips. He opens his mouth and sucks on it. Kyungsoo moans. Luhan thinks he hasn’t heard anything better than this. Kyungsoo’s voice is deep and it is like dark chocolate to Luhan’s ears.

They nip, bite and suck as they remain pressed impossibly close to each other. The music pulsates and the crowd gets bigger around them but all Luhan can feel is Kyungsoo under his fingertips, in his mouth, against his thudding heart and he is shaking the very foundation of his being. This is everything he wants. Kyungsoo and Luhan pull back at the same time when it gets too hard to breathe. Their breaths are harsh and Luhan’s paler skin is flushed. Kyungsoo’s lips are swollen. Luhan rubs his thumb over it as Kyungsoo’s eyes flutter. Luhan says, softly, “I hate this. I hate how you and Yifan click. I know I set you guys up, but I hate it because I like you so, so, so much.”

Kyungsoo gulps, “Were you planning on never telling me Luhan?” Luhan looks down as he shakes his head ruefully. Kyungsoo curls a finger underneath his chin and pushes his face up. Luhan sees something unfamiliar blazing bright in those eyes. He feels his knees tremble a little at the intensity. “I am glad you got drunk then.” He lightly kisses Luhan. “Because I like you very, very much too.”

The boulder in Luhan’s gut dissolves and he hears chains snapping in his mind. Was this supposed to be so easy? Luhan’s heart soars and a genuine smile breaks across his face. He is so happy. But then there is rain on his parade when he remembers, “But what about Yifan?”

“I will talk to him,” Kyungsoo says. “I liked him, I did, but I like you more, definitely. I have for a long time.” He strokes his thumb in circles over Luhan’s cheekbones and the latter realises how comforting this is. He leans into the touch. “Tomorrow I will talk to him. Let’s go home okay?”

Unbeknownst to them, for better or worse, Yifan did see them kissing. He wasn’t too surprised as his mind went back to the time in the café where Luhan had looked sad when he had talked about Kyungsoo. He did wonder what that was about and now he knows. And Wu Yifan doesn’t understand why he feels relief, disappointment and something like dread all at the same time.

Maybe it is so because he had just made out with Junmyeon, and twenty minutes later Luhan arrives with Kyungsoo. He was in the staff bathroom (Zitao had already raised enough eyebrows when he returned, hair messed up, love-bites on his collarbones and then the younger had raised his eyebrows higher when Junmyeon followed, equally messed up, buttoning his shirt and then dragging Jongdae away after hurriedly talking to everyone else and leaving the club), trying to calm down and lightly splash cold water on his face and not think too much about how wonderful it felt reconnecting with Junmyeon. His body had sung and his soul had danced to that rhythm. And now maybe, just maybe something can happen. Junmyeon knows where he works now, which could be or could not be a good thing.

So he had panicked when he saw Kyungsoo. He had decided he was going to call it quits with him. It is only fair. How can he invest his time with someone when actually he wishes to be with another? So, even though the development is a good thing, he wonders if it is a good thing for him.


	5. WHERE YOU FINALLY KNOW HOW I FEEL: PART II

Junmyeon and Jongdae rush towards Kichijoji where Minseok has been admitted to a hospital. Minah had called again and told him very little of the extent of Minseok’s injuries. Thankfully, from whatever Junmyeon had weaned from a teary Minah’s jumbled words, it is nothing serious. But Junmyeon notices something. Jongdae is greatly agitated. Even more than Junmyeon, but he doesn’t comment on it. The tension that rolls of the younger is like miasma, making the air heavy around them and Junmyeon wonders why.

So Junmyeon places a hand over Jongdae’s fisted one. The touch startles the other as Jongdae blinks at him. Junmyeon tries to reassuringly smile, in spite of his own erratic heartbeats and dreaded concern clawing at the edge of his mind, “He is okay. I am sure. That asshole isn’t allowed to die before me.”

Jongdae weakly chuckles. It is dry and it doesn’t become his usually cheery face at all. “Made a blood pact or something when you were young?”

“Memory’s a but hazy about if we did or not, since we know each other for twenty years now.”

Jongdae whistles, “That is a long time.”

“Yeah.”

A silence lulls between the space. Junmyeon throws his head back against the seat and closes his eyes. All he can see is Yifan, and his face, and remember the feel of his lips on him. His hand tugs at his collar, feeling the memory of wet lips and teeth grazing his skin, and in his mind he can see the red marks on his light skin. He had buttoned up completely, showing no skin at all like he is some good, god-fearing churchboy. He is afraid of getting caught by Jongdae because who takes off for a make-out session with another guy while on a _date_. But shit, was that fantastic.

Now, he has to tell Jongdae that he can no longer go out with him because he has found _him_. Fucking finally.

Then guilt wraps around his conscience. He slyly glances at Jongdae from the corner of his eyes. The man is staring out the window, in fact, Jongdae hasn’t paid him much attention since he had run back to the bar, trying to fix himself as much as he can. A strange little thought floats in his mind. He could be very right, or he could be very wrong.

The journey to the hospital is silent. They embark from the taxi and head inside. A quick query at the reception gets them going for the direction of the first floor where they spot a distressed Minah right away.

The slim, good-looking girl with cheeks that were slowly losing their pre-puberty chubbiness, rushes to them. She looked older than her tender age of sixteen. She breaks into a fresh wave of sobs when she notices Junmyeon. She grabs Junmyeon by his arm and says, “Oppa! I didn’t know who to call! Mom and dad are in Korea and I just…”

“Ssh,” Junmyeon pulls her forward and strokes her hair. “I am here. It’s okay. What happened?”

“Since I was going to be alone for the weekend, oppa was going to stay with me. He was on his way when he crashed against a lamppost,” Minah mumbles into Junmyeon’s shirt.

“Okay, okay. His injuries?”

“The doctor said he has a hairline fracture on his leg, his forehead cracked open and he has deep cuts all over his arms. But they put him under sedatives because of the pain.”

Jongdae sighs in relief. Minah finally registers his presence. She peeks over Junmyeon’s shoulder. “Um, who are you?”

“I am Kim Jongdae,” Jongdae smiles. “I am your oppa’s friend too.”

“Oh,” Minah lets Junmyeon unwrap his hands, as she smiles at Jongdae. “Oppa talks about you.”

“Oh he does?” There is a weird, pained look on Jongdae’s face that Junmyeon really wants to comment on, but refrains as the strange thought moves around like a cyclone in his head.

“It is nice to meet you!”

They shake hands, “Same.” Junmyeon raises an eyebrow at the odd glint in the girl’s eyes. He feels like he missed something _very_ obvious.

Minah looks at Junmyeon again. “I need to call dad. You guys can go visit.”

When she leaves, Jongdae asks, “She is really young.”

Junmyeon laughs, “That won’t be the first time someone said that! Yeah, Minseok and Minah have an age gap of ten years.”

“Oh?” Jongdae’s eyebrows rise up his forehead. “He hardly talks about her.”

“Well, the age difference bothers him. But he is a good brother. He almost behaves like a mother hen around her. He doesn’t talk about her much because people always ask the same thing about the age difference and all.”

Jongdae nods. “Hyung likes to keep a lot of things to himself, doesn’t he?”

If Junmyeon is thrown out of loop by that comment, he doesn’t express it. Instead, he coolly observes Jongdae. They are standing in front of the room where Minseok is. Junmyeon pushes the door open and walks in. He hears Jongdae take a shaky breath at the sight of Minseok, lying motionless on the bed with numerous tubes attached to him, his foot plastered and a thick strip of bandage on his forehead. Junmyeon takes a step back as the shadowy thought in his brain starts taking a more solid shape.

Jongdae walks in before him and flops down at the seat beside the bed. He bites his lips and sighs. He puts his hands over Minseok’s and murmurs, “You are so silly hyung.”

The goal was not to be heard, but Junmyeon hears it, the underlying annoyed affection. The thought now has a complete, definite form. He blurts out before he can stop his big ole mouth, “You like him, don’t you?”

Jongdae startles as he looks back at Junmyeon, “What? What do you mean?”

“I mean, you like him. Like a crush, or something more than that. I am right, aren’t I?” Junmyeon looks on imploringly as he sees red blooming over Jongdae’s high cheekbones.

Jongdae stutters, fumbling with words, “I-I, Junmyeon, I mean…”

Junmyeon smiles and puts his hands up, palms out, “It is okay.” He flops down at the foot of the bed. He suddenly feels a weight lift off his shoulder. “It is okay.”

Jongdae frowns, “I don’t understand? I am supposed to be on a date with you and it is okay that I like Minseok-hyung still?”

Junmyeon chuckles, “I liked you, don’t get me wrong, I did. But there is someone else I like way too much.”

Jongdae’s eyes go as round as saucers. He gapes at Junmyeon for a while, “What?”

“Yeah. There is someone I like, a lot. I was actually planning on telling you today that I don’t think I could see you anymore.”

“Oh.” The two of them look at each other for a beat, before they both start laughing.

The situation would have been entirely comic if Minseok wasn’t lying unconscious, swathed in bandages and hooked up on tubes. Also less comic if Junmyeon had taken Yifan’s number! If Junmyeon was alone, he would have sunk to the ground, started screaming and tearing his own hair out.

“So, basically,” Junmyeon says when he mulls over it. “You agreed to go out with me to make him jealous, didn’t you?”

Jongdae ducks his head and blushes profusely, “Fuck, you are too clever.”

Junmyeon giggles, “Well.”

“But,” Jongdae raises his head and narrows his eyes at Junmyeon. “Why _did_ you agree to go out with me when you liked someone else already?”

It is Junmyeon’s turn to be utterly flabbergasted. “Uh, would you be mad if I told you that I met the guy after our first date?” He chuckles nervously and rubs the back of his neck.

Jongdae gasps, “What? Even though we weren’t really a thing, I do feel…I don’t know, cheated?”

Junmyeon laughs because he knows Jongdae’s tone holds no poison in it. “Well, you are going to be feel more cheated when I tell you I saw him tonight again, coincidentally.”

Jongdae jerks forward, “At the club? Don’t tell me it is Sehun.”

“Eww, no, never. I rather fling myself off a cliff than date that noodle.”

“Then who?” Jongdae peers as the cogs in his brain whirls. He thinks for a while, scratching his chin. His eyes widen. “Oh…my god, it was that other tall dude that basically looked like sin on a stick, wasn’t it? The other hot as fuck bartender, right?”

Junmyeon raises his eyebrows and looks shocked at how fast Jongdae figured it out. “How?”

“Well sin incarnate looked weirdly at you and you looked weirdly at him. I was wondering, but now it makes sense.” Then Jongdae narrows his eyes again and points at Junmyeon’s neck, “Then you disappeared and returned with your shirt buttoned all the way. And tall dude wasn’t there either. It all makes sense.” He gasps dramatically and clutches his chest, “Ah, Kim Junmyeon, you broke my heart.”

Junmyeon chuckles while Jongdae grins back at him. Junmyeon was right, they could be good friends.

“Oppa?” Minah returns and hovers by the door. “I don’t understand some things on the bill.”

Junmyeon stands up and nods his head, “Okay, coming.” Then he looks down at Jongdae, who was already softly stroking Minseok’s face, his lips curled into a smile and Junmyeon can see the affection gleaming in his eyes. Junmyeon himself looks down at Minseok and smiles; he is going to give Minseok a lecture when he wakes up. He doesn’t say anything, save a subdued chuckle under his breath and follows Minah out.

When they are walking towards the billing counter, Minah says, “I think oppa likes Jongdae-sshi.”

This surprises Junmyeon. “How do you know?”

“He did tell me about setting you two up and ever since that, he has been gloomy and all. I thought maybe he was upset about you two and maybe he likes Jongdae-sshi.”

Junmyeon grins and ruffles her hair, “Kid, sometimes you are too smart.”

“Since my brother is an idiot, someone had to be smart in the family!”

 

Saturday passed by in a blur. When it was already Sunday, Yifan and Zitao were still cleaning up. Miyuki had left before the clock struck midnight, leaving Seunghyun with the other two bartenders, taking stock and making pre-emptive orders for the next day.

So by the time Yifan was returning to Two Moons again to start his work day (night), Junmyeon was only a pleasant fizzle on the back of his mind. There was this little fantasy that Junmyeon might return to Two Moons tonight and tell him he got rid of that date to be with Yifan. Okay, not so little of a fantasy then. A man can dream.

He enters the establishment to find Zitao behind the counter with a sappy-looking Sehun nearly spread over the counter making googly eyes at the former. Yifan mentally pukes a little and makes a disgruntled sound which has them both looking at him. “Nice to see you Oh Sehun.”

Sehun starts blushing. He waves at Yifan, “Hey, just, uh, came to drop Zitao.”

“Oh? Now you are dropping him at work?” Yifan smirks as he sees Zitao fidget. Sweet. “So when is the one-month anniversary?”

“Ge!” Zitao glares. Sehun looks everywhere else but at him.

Sehun coughs, “Uh, gotta go. A friend of mine is in a hospital.”

“Oh?” Zitao looks at him with concern. Yifan thinks it is cute. He did suspect Zitao was as much interested as the other was. He knew the shameless flirting he had to endure for a month wasn't a one-way highway. “Jongin?”

“Nah, Minseok-hyung, you know the dude who owns the teahouse I told you about? Where I buy my bubble tea?”

“Oh yeah, you promised to take me there.” Zitao smiles sweetly which has Sehun grinning.

Yifan would have sarcastically cooed at them and their mutual grin-fest, but the name Sehun lets slip stops him. He pushes Zitao out of the way, who squawks indignantly and flails his limbs. Yifan narrows his eyes and furrows his eyebrows (Sehun’s knees start shaking), “Minseok? As in Kim Minseok? How old is he?”

“Uh? Twenty-six?”

“Tell me which hospital he is in now!”

“Ge?” Zitao asks, worriedly. He can tell Yifan is mad, but he cannot fathom why. He shares a look with Sehun. Yifan waves him off and continues glaring at Sehun.

Sehun widens his eyes and gives Zitao one last ‘please-help-me’ look, who shrugs his shoulders, throwing poor Oh Sehun under the weight of Yifan’s wrath. He says, “Uh, he is at the Salvation Hearts in Kichijoji.”

Yifan nods and then pats Sehun’s shoulder, who flinches. Then Yifan leaves them alone. Sehun mutters, “I thought he was going to hit me. What did I do? What was that?”

“I really don’t know,” Zitao shakes his head. He ruffles Sehun’s hair and resists the urge to pinch Sehun's flushed cheeks. “And I don’t think ge is even capable of hurting a fly.”

Back in the changing room, Yifan dials Luhan. His friend picks it up in a few rings. “Yifan?”

“Kim Minseok was in an accident. He is admitted in Salvation Hearts in Kichijoji. Luhan?”

Luhan takes a deep breath. “You think I should go talk to him?”

“Yes. He can ignore you if you go back to that café, teahouse, whatever.”

“Isn’t this too sneaky?”

“No. You deserve better.” Then Yifan wages a mini-battle with himself. Finally, he decides, “I saw you with Kyungsoo yesterday, on the dance floor.”

There is silence and a faint thudding noise. Yifan can safely assume Luhan has dropped his phone. Then he hears voices. Yifan doesn’t have to be Sherlock Holmes to know who Luhan could be with right now. He is sort of happy for him. Then he hears another voice, “Yifan?”

“Kyungsoo? Huh, not surprised.”

“Look, I am sorry, I was going to talk to you—”

“Kyungsoo, put me on speaker please.” After a few seconds of fumbling, Kyungsoo softly says that he is on the speaker. “Both of you are idiots. If you liked him Luhan, why did you set me up with him? And Kyungsoo, if you liked my jerk of a best friend, why were you even there at our first date?”

“You know why,” Luhan meekly says while Kyungsoo softly chuckles, "I thought he wasn't interested in me."

“Okay, I do. But what part of your plan of getting over Minseok’s betrayal involved setting me up with the guy you obviously like?”

“Fanfan, you know I always don’t make sense.” Kyungsoo chuckles beside him some more.

Yifan smiles. “Kyungsoo, fair warning, you are now stuck with the world’s biggest asshat.”

“So you…you aren’t mad?” Kyungsoo asks, hesitantly.

“No. I am not. I thought you were great, but it is obvious who you like more. So I am not mad at all.”

“You sure?” Luhan asks, scared.

“No. Now, do you want me to accompany you?”

Luhan is going to answer when Seunghyun pokes his head inside the room and says, “We got a huge private party coming today.”

Kyungsoo quickly says, “We heard that. If you want, I can go with you.” Yifan knows Kyungsoo is actually asking Luhan. Yifan smiles because he knows Luhan finally found someone who cares just as much Luhan does. He is glad he gave Luhan that fourth glass of coconut rum cocktail. He is such a good friend, yes.

Luhan whispers, “Okay.”

“Okay,” Yifan says. “Take care. I will talk to you later. And hey, can I talk to Kyungsoo once?”

The phone gets switched. When Kyungsoo tentatively says hello, Yifan’s voice gets saccharine sweet and drops a few octaves, “If you become the second person to hurt Luhan, then break his heart and fuck him up, I will kill you.”

Yifan hears Kyungsoo swallowing. Sometimes he is glad how deep and gravelly his voice can get and keep up with his faux image of ‘bad’. Kyungsoo chuckles nervously, “Got it.”

Yifan disconnects and keeps smiling at his phone for a while. Then a sudden thought slams hard against his conscious.

Sehun knows Minseok. Minseok owns a teahouse. Junmyeon said something about a friend getting in an accident. He also said some things about a friend and tea leaves. And Sehun knows Junmyeon as well.

Junmyeon and Minseok are friends?

He has been making out with the friend of his best friend’s ex, that despicable excuse of a human being that he would happily punch into oblivion if given the chance and The Purge happened in real life?

What. The. Fuck.

 

Luhan wakes up but doesn’t open his eyes. Summer is here but since it rained last night, the weather is amazingly pleasant. The sky is still overcast; the air promises more rain. Luhan likes this sort of weather. What he likes more right now is the solid, warm presence beside him on the bed.

Kyungsoo and Luhan had made to the latter’s apartment last night, and somewhere between lazily making out and talking, they had fallen asleep with limbs intertwined and breathes falling into easy synchronisation.

Luhan finally opens his eyes and finds a sleeping Kyungsoo facing him. A bubbling, happy feeling fizzes inside him. It finally happened, too sad it took him alcohol to get him here. But maybe he needed that push, needed some fake liquid courage to get him through. And he is glad as well.

Luhan takes his time taking his fill. Kyungsoo’s face is an unusual juxtaposition of hard planes and soft edges. There is the fluffy black hair sweeping over strong eyebrows. Then there are his huge eyes; and he is glaring at everybody and everything twenty-four seven but Luhan knows how soft his gaze can get. Then there is the defined jawline, that isn’t cut-my-finger-sharp like Zitao’s, but his smooth cheeks balance it out. And Luhan will forever be in love with Kyungsoo’s lips. They felt as heavenly as they looked like. He smiles as he traces the dip in Kyungsoo’s cupid bow with one finger.

“Are you going to watch me sleep like some sparkly vampire creep?” Kyungsoo mumbles, eyes still closed.

Luhan chuckles, “Does that make you Bella Swan?”

“Ugh, please. I have more emotions than she does. And you are too anorexic to be Edward.” Kyungsoo opens his eyes and there is that heart-shaped smile that stops Luhan’s heart every fucking time. Luhan thinks if he will ever get used to it (he honestly doesn’t want to, however).

“I am not anorexic!”

“I wouldn’t have believed that if I didn’t know how much you actually eat. Elephants would be jealous of you.”

Luhan laughs and Kyungsoo takes that moment to kiss him on his nose. Luhan blushes, Kyungsoo grins at that. Luhan sits up and stretches. “What time is it?”

Kyungsoo turns to his side to grab his phone. “A lot past lunchtime.”

“We overslept?”

“We did go to bed really late.”

“I didn’t even realise.”

“Yeah, neither did I.” Kyungsoo smirks at him, a strange sparkle in his eyes. Luhan tilts his head, carefully watching him. Kyungsoo cups Luhan’s neck and leans in, kissing him on the nose again. “So, will you go out with me to lunch? Uh, no, evening snacks?”

Luhan drops his gaze and tells his heart to behave. He smiles, “You really like my nose, don’t you?”

“It is the only thing cute about you,” Kyungsoo deadpans.

Luhan shoves him. “Rude.” Kyungsoo laughs and Luhan’s heart doesn’t listen to him anyway and rabbits in his chest. “And yeah, I will.”

They head out for ramen, after Kyungsoo borrows clothes from Luhan (“This isn’t black.” “Who cares?” “I care!” “Kyungsoo, shut the fuck up.” “You have tiny shoulders.” “So do you!” “No I have been exercising!” “Oh really? Where? I don’t see it.” "I will kill you."). The late-lunch-but-really-snacks was nice; Luhan nearly swoons when Kyungsoo feeds him pieces of chicken and when grabs his hands while returning to his apartment.

They were channel surfing an hour later, cuddled up on the sofa when Luhan’s phone starts ringing. He picks it up to see it is Yifan calling. He glances over at Kyungsoo, who holds his gaze and looks down at the caller id. Luhan says, “I completely forgot about this part.”

“Well, do you want to sneak behind his back while I keep leading him on?” Kyungsoo asks.

Luhan shakes his head. He takes the call. “Yifan?”

“Kim Minseok was in an accident. He is admitted in Salvation Hearts in Kichijoji. Luhan?”

Luhan thinks he heard wrong but he knows he didn’t. At first he doesn’t get what Yifan means because his heart is pounding too loud. When he does get what his friend means, he calmly says, “You think I should go talk to him?”

“Yes. He can ignore you if you go back to that café, teahouse, whatever.”

“Isn’t this too sneaky?” Luhan knows Yifan made a reasonable point, but it still feels like hitting below the belt to him.

“No. You deserve better.” Yifan pauses for a few beats. “I saw you with Kyungsoo yesterday, on the dance floor.”

The phone drops from Luhan’s grip, on to the rug. He is, maybe, hyperventilating, when he feels a pressure on his shoulder. He turns his head to the side and sees Kyungsoo looking at him, worry laced in those eyes. Luhan says, “He knows.” Kyungsoo’s eyes widen. He grabs Luhan’s hand and entwines his fingers through the other’s. He picks up the device, “Yifan?”

“Kyungsoo? Huh, not surprised.”

Kyungsoo won’t lie and say that his heart didn’t drop to his guts. Instantly, panic settles and guilt raises its shitty head at him. He fumbles, “Look, I am sorry, I was going to talk to you—”

“Kyungsoo, put me on speaker please.” Kyungsoo is taken aback at that request. He doesn’t know where this is going, and it is making him anxious, but he does as Yifan asks. When he conveys as such to Yifan, he continues, “Both of you are idiots. If you liked him Luhan, why did you set me up with him? And Kyungsoo, if you liked my jerk of a best friend, why were you even there at our first date?”

“You know why,” Luhan meekly says. He hears no malice in Yifan’s voice and it makes him slightly optimistic. Kyungsoo chuckles beside him and softly says, “I thought he wasn’t interested in me.”

“Okay, I do. But what part of your plan of getting over Minseok’s betrayal involved setting me up with the guy you obviously like?”

“Fanfan, you know I always don’t make sense.” Luhan rubs his face exasperatedly because he admits Yifan poses some really accurate questions that he doesn’t have the right answers to. Yet. Kyungsoo chuckles beside him again. Luhan glares at him.

“Kyungsoo, fair warning, you are now stuck with the world’s biggest asshat.”

“So you…you aren’t mad?” Kyungsoo asks, hesitantly. He is kind of confused at Yifan’s reaction.

“No. I am not. I thought you were great, but it is obvious who you like more. So I am not mad at all.”

“You sure?” Luhan asks, scared. Yifan is the best, he will get him the best birthday present ever this year!

“No. Now, do you want me to accompany you?”

Luhan is going to answer when they hear another voice shout in the background about some huge party and Luhan knows Yifan must be starting his shift at Two Moons now.

Kyungsoo quickly says, “We heard that. If you want, I can go with you.” Kyungsoo looks at Luhan who slowly nods his head. He meant what he said.

Luhan whispers, “Okay.” Kyungsoo squeezes his hand and he squeezes back.

“Okay,” Yifan says. “Take care. I will talk to you later. And hey, can I talk to Kyungsoo once?”

The phone gets switched. Kyungsoo wonders what Yifan wants to say. He presses the phone against his ear and says, “Hello?”

“If you become the second person to hurt Luhan, then break his heart and fuck him up, I will kill you.” Kyungsoo swallows nervously because Yifan’s voice is deceptively sweet. He doesn’t think, especially, that the tall man is capable of violence, but hey what does he know? He says, feeling a bit skittish, “Got it.”

Luhan puts his head on Kyungsoo’s shoulder when he puts down the phone. Kyungsoo cards his fingers through Luhan’s hair and says, “You okay? You can always not go.”

Luhan shakes his head. “No, I have to go. I deserve the explanation and the apology.”

“Okay.”

A few minutes later they are speeding towards Kichijoji. Luhan’s hands are busy—one is in his mouth where he is chewing his fingernails to non-existence while the other is safely clasped under Kyungsoo’s hand, thumb gently rubbing over his knuckles.

“Hey,” Kyungsoo softly says to gain Luhan’s attention. Luhan turns to look at him, eyes wide in trepidation. “Remember why you need to do this.”

“I do!” Luhan squeals.

“Yeah? Because I can hear you coming up with escape plans.”

“That’s not, what. Shit, I should have never let you meet Yifan, he has permanently rubbed off on you!”

“Yes, he did help me sharpen my Lu-radar. I should buy him a cake or something.”

Luhan hits Kyungsoo on the shoulder, who retaliates by grinning. Luhan grumbles, “Shut up. I am just…”

“Nervous? I can tell. And you should be.” Kyungsoo scoots closer and Luhan leans into him heavily. “And Luhan? If you are ready to move on, I am here, remember that.”

Luhan tilts his head to look at Kyungsoo, whose plump cheeks are coloured the lightest shade of pink. He frowns, “I wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t want to move on. I want to do this with you. Minseok is more for closure than anything else. It is like a part of my soul can finally be at peace after this. I know you are here, and I am happy, okay?”

Kyungsoo smiles brightly at him and swoops down to capture Luhan’s lip in a swift kiss. Luhan smiles under his lips. He wasn’t lying, he is really, really happy after a long time in his life. He is ready to take this leap of faith and maybe, learn to trust Kyungsoo and trust himself with this.

They are at the hospital entrance and Kyungsoo pays the fare as Luhan enters the reception to ask where Minseok is. They walk up the stairs together, Kyungsoo still holds Luhan’s hands, his touch giving him the strength Luhan didn’t even know he needed till now.

They are standing in front of Minseok’s room. They hear laughter from inside. Luhan widens his eyes at Kyungsoo, who smiles and leans in to quickly peck him on his lips. He puts a thumb up, “You can do it. I will wait outside.” He lets go of Luhan’s hand with one last squeeze and firm nod of his head.

Luhan takes a deep breath and knocks on the door. A sharper, unfamiliar voice says, “It’s open!”

Luhan tentatively pushes the door. Minseok is awake and sitting up on the bed, talking with this man. They both look at him—the stranger in slow dawning recognition and the not-so stranger is shock, awe and what Luhan thinks is confusion.

The stranger gasps, “Oh my god, now I remember where I have seen you! You are that model, right? Luhan? Your ads for Naruko would go on for non-stop on TV!”

Luhan grins weakly and nods, “The same.”

Minseok mutters, “Damn, I don’t watch TV.” He would have known Luhan was in Japan if he did.

“But…” the man starts, but then abruptly stops and looks back at Minseok, who still had eyes for Luhan only. He gets to his feet. “I should probably give you some privacy.” With that he hurries out of the room.

Minseok takes a deep breath. “Luhan.”

“Minseok.” Luhan keeps standing, still fighting the urge to just bolt. He is pretty sure Kyungsoo is standing guard outside and if he tries doing that, he might get bodily harmed. So he walks towards the chair the stranger evacuated and plops down. “You probably know why I am here.”

Minseok twists his fingers in his lap and refuses to look at Luhan. He nods his head, “I do. But…never mind.” He takes a shaky breath, “I am so fucking sorry Luhan. You didn’t deserve what I did to you.”

“Damn right I didn’t,” Luhan sighs. “But I am not angry at you anymore. I just wished you had told me why before you disappeared like that. I wasn’t okay for a long time. I kept thinking I pushed you away, that all of it was my fault, that I did something to make you unhappy.” He traces patterns on the rough cotton bedsheet before saying in a low, strangled whisper, “I tried to kill myself.”

Minseok gasps loudly, “Oh my god.” He claps a hand over his mouth. “Shit, shit. I fucked up so fucking bad. God, Lu…” He puts his hands on his face to hide the tears that had spilled without his permission. “I am so sorry. So, fuck!”

Luhan is alarmed at Minseok’s reaction. He suddenly gets that leaving must have been as difficult as being left behind but he knows his hurt is more painful. He leans forward and pries Minseok’s hands off his face. The tear-stained face that once would have his heart skipping multiple beats, only moves him enough to feel terribly sad. He says, “Minseok…”

“I fucked up, I know. I…left because the thought of tying myself down to one person at nineteen felt so suffocating. I thought…”

“You thought you were young and you had so much to do.” Luhan drops his hands and puts them back in his own lap as he completes Minseok's sentence. Maybe he understands, maybe this will require some alcohol (and a pair of the plumpest lips _ever_ ). “I get it. Forever is a strong word, after all. We could have talked about it.” After all these years, it lifts the burden—that it must have been something wrong with him to make Minseok abandon him like that. However, he does regret that Minseok didn’t come talk to him, but opted to leave him hanging like that.

“I know we could have. But I panicked. And I was an immature little fuck. I didn’t deserve you, didn’t deserve your kindness, or your love.”

“You were young and stupid. But eight years is a long time, I forgive you.” Luhan smiles softly at Minseok, who looks even more surprised. “I have moved on. And you have too.”

“I haven’t. I couldn’t date anyone for a long time. I keep thinking I am gonna fuck things up more…”

“You shouldn’t hold on. You are not nineteen. Our pasts cannot keep holding us back to live our presents. I was blind to my present for a long time. But I can finally see now and I am willing to take a chance.”

“I am glad then,” Minseok smiles and rubs his face. “And you are right. I can now look ahead, I think. I, thank you. It was never your fault.”

“I kept thinking for a long time that it was!” Luhan chuckles. “As I said eight years is too long to hold on and keep hurting yourself.”

“Luhan?” Minseok looks determined as he stares at Luhan. “Don’t be a stranger, okay? I promise you free shortbread cookies for life.”

Luhan bursts into peals of laughter. His soul feels a hundred times lighter. Yifan was right, he did need this. He needed the catharsis that Minseok’s words brought him. He needed to hear Minseok out. He needed to let go the hurt he had held deep inside him like some dragon protecting his treasure. He is finally free. And he needs to give life, and love, another chance. And he knows there is a short man with a beautiful smile standing at the other end for him, waiting on that chance. 

Minseok asks, “But, how did you know I am here?”

“Yifan told me. You remember Yifan?”

“Vaguely. We never met.” Suddenly Minseok’s eyes widen. “Hold up, Yifan, as in the guy who was like really tall? Your one and only best friend, Wu Yifan?”

“Yes. I only know one Wu Yifan,” Luhan frowns, now he is getting confused.

“Shit,” Minseok falls back against the bed and starts laughing. “That is why I was thinking why the name sounded so familiar.”

“Minseok, did you hurt your head really hard? Do I need to call a doctor?”

“Say,” Minseok’s feline eyes sparkles with much mirth. “Did Yifan talk about anyone named Junmyeon?”

Luhan is almost falling out of his chair. How can Minseok know that Yifan did indeed talk about a guy named Junmyeon? He says so aloud.

Minseok starts laughing again. “Your friend made out with my friend on an empty train a couple of weeks ago.”

Luhan’s eyes widen and his mouth drops to the floor. He stares unblinkingly at Minseok for a few seconds. He closes his mouth and shakes his head. “Now I remember. You used to talk about your best friend Myeonie to me, and Junmyeon is Myeonie? Oh man holy shit. This is tremendous.”

“This is hilarious!”

The former lovers erupt into even more laughter, until Luhan’s face darkens, “But, Yifan hates you with unbridled passion. That might hinder those two.”

“Well, if punching me makes him feel better, so be it. You don’t know how excited Junmyeon got when he was describing his late night adventures.”

“Same. Yifan was depressed over it for a while too. I mean who makes out and then forgets to take each other’s number?”

“I know right?”

“So,” Luhan eyes gleam with mischief. “Do you wanna team up to bring those two together?”

“If you insist,” Minseok smirks.

“Oh, I do. I don’t see any way else how these idiots can come together!”

After a handshake and promises to visit Black Pearl soon, all bitterness is vanished away like snow melting after winter to let spring in, replaced by friendship as the two former lovers decide to come up with a plan to help their friends. Minseok even puts his number in Luhan’s phone.

As Luhan exits the room, his steps are light and he feels happy. He feels like a new person. He spots Kyungsoo at the end of the corridor, looking out of the window, earphones in as he bobs his head along to the music. In his cheery stroll, he knocks into someone.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry,” the other man says.

Luhan straightens up and flails his hands, “I am okay. Are you?”

“Oh my god, you are Luhan!” a female voice squeaks from behind the man.

The man moves aside for a girl to slowly get close to Luhan, eyes wide and a silly smile on her face. Something about her eyes and gummy smile reminds him of Minseok. The man looks at him in surprise, “Luhan?”

“Yeah oppa! He is a model and I am like, his biggest fan! I buy all his magazines!”

Luhan shyly grins and says, “Oh.” He eyes the man surreptitiously. The man looks at him too, equally interested. Suddenly he remembers, Minseok did have a sister. But the last time he saw her picture, she was only eight or nine years old. The pieces align when he remembers how Yifan described the man who stole his heart and he gasps, “You are Junmyeon, aren’t you?”

Junmyeon gasps this time. Minah’s mouth drops, her head is positively reeling now. Junmyeon says, “Excuse me? How? We never met when you and uh, Minseok, were dating.”

Minah shrieks, “Oppa and Luhan used to date? What?”

“You were a toddler then,” Junmyeon waves her off.

“I was nine, not in my diapers! Why did oppa never say anything!”

Junmyeon glares down at her. Minah pouts but shuts up. He turns his attention back to Luhan, “Uh, can I ask how you came to be here?”

Luhan devilishly smirks (Minah swoons and tries not to melt into the floor), “Yifan told me. We are friends.” With that, Luhan saunters (not before winking at Minah, who _tries_ very, very hard not to pass out) off, leaving a very shocked Junmyeon in his wake (now he wishes he could pass out).

Luhan taps Kyungsoo on his shoulder. Kyungsoo whips his head around and smiles, “You okay?”

“Yeah. I got my explanation and apology. I feel better,” Luhan says as he wraps his arms around Kyungsoo’s waist and pulls him closer. Kyungsoo threads his fingers through his hair. Luhan murmurs into Kyungsoo’s neck, “Please be my boyfriend?”

Kyungsoo chuckles, “I thought you would never ask.”

“Well, you are still here.”

“I don’t plan on leaving.” Kyungsoo pulls back and kisses Luhan on his forehead. Luhan smiles and bites down on his lip. His heart is beating too fast for him to open his mouth and form a coherent sentence to convey all that he wants to say. “But, can you tell me why there is a girl pointing and shouting at our direction with a kinda cute guy looking over at us, utterly shocked?”

Luhan chuckles, “I will tell you all about it on the ride back. Bet you will learn to appreciate coincidences.”

 

After Luhan leaves, Minseok lies down and heaves a sigh. A lot of resentment and remorse he had flooding his heart had eased. He does feel better. The door opens and Jongdae enters. He says, “I don’t know why but Junmyeon and Minah are standing outside and your sister is screaming incoherent words while Junmyeon has turned into a statue. I tried calling them, but no answer. Minah started flailing her arms everywhere. Since she is a teenager and I don’t speak teenager, I fled the scene, sort of petrified.”

Minseok chuckles, fairly certain that Luhan has met Junmyeon. He stares at Jongdae and comes to a decision. His heart is thumping too loudly as he reaches for Jongdae, who raises an eyebrow at him but lets Minseok hold his hand. Minseok slowly says, “Luhan was here. We talked.” Jongdae makes an indistinct sound and nods his head, but doesn’t say anything. “Junmyeon told me that I needed to be forgiven to move on. And now, I think I am ready to focus on my present instead of lurking in the past. It got me nothing good. So, Jongdae, if you want to, if you still feel the same, can we give us a chance? I like you Jongdae. I set you up with Junmyeon so I could convince myself that I didn’t. But you have no idea how jealous I got when I saw how you and Junmyeon behaved around each other.”

Jongdae presses a hand to his mouth as he stares at Minseok with wide eyes. Minseok is nervous, after all a year has passed since Jongdae’s confession. A lot can happen in a year, feelings can change and people will move on without looking back. However, Minseok needn’t need to worry about all that when Jongdae leans forward and kisses him on his lips chastely. He pulls back immediately and sits down, blushing profusely, “Yes, I mean, yeah. I will. I hope that wasn’t too forward.”

Minseok grins. The brief brush of lips has his heart thudding and he cannot stop the tingling sensation travelling down his spine. He says, “Do that again, and do it properly!”

Jongdae grins before he gets up and sits down on the bed. This time he cups Minseok’s face before kissing him, as Minseok had ordered, properly. Minseok raises his free hand to curl his fingers around Jongdae’s neck and pulls him closer. Jongdae hums as he tilts his head and Minseok licks at the corner of Jongdae’s lips (like he _always_ wanted to do). Jongdae lets Minseok in and the latter doesn’t waste any more in learning how Jongdae feels and tastes.

Suddenly the door bangs open and closes in rapid succession, and someone shouts, “Why is everyone kissing everyone today? When do I get to do that!” Minseok and Jongdae break away, frowning.

“You are a foetus!”

“Oppa! I am sixteen for fuck’s sakes!”

“Where did you even learn that word from?”

“Oppa! I am sixteen not six! I am a woman!”

“No, you are a kid!”

“OPPA!”

“That is your sister and Junmyeon, isn’t it?” Jongdae asks.

“Yup,” Minseok nods his head.

“She saw us kissing.”

“Yes, she did. Now, can we go back to what we were doing? I was quite enjoying it.”

Jongdae grins before returning to what they were doing before. Minseok hums in happiness as Jongdae presses his lips against his again.

Minseok finally got rid off that nasty pea underneath his mattress.

 

The private party took up all Yifan’s time. The party was hosted by some idol company, which meant more than a hundred people descended by midnight, which meant Seunghyun had to call in reinforcements, which meant that Yifan had to do double the work of mixing endless drinks and guiding the temporary employees and which means that he found himself heading home at three in the morning, feeling like a zombie. He was so tired; he couldn’t even muster the disappointment of Junmyeon not showing up.

Then as soon as he reached home, he remembered he had a meeting to attend at ten, which implied he had little less than six hours to sleep. He didn’t even change out of clothes, or take off his makeup as he passed out on his bed.

He wakes up feeling pretty terrible. He peels his eyes open to see it is still fifteen minutes to nine. He wages a battle between waking up now and sleeping for more five minutes. But then he realises his unclean face feels gritty, and he had worn his tightest jeans to bed, which means that blood circulation down his limbs has all but stopped, and he cannot feel his legs. Terrific. He is not going in for work tonight. But he does need that pay cheque for his voiceover. He had promised his mom a vacation with the just the two of them for her birthday after all.

So he drags himself up and walks to the bathroom. He stares at his miserable reflection in the mirror. He already has face demons, aka, a small smattering of acne on his chin for not removing that BB cream. The eyeliner is smudged beyond hope. And he doesn’t even want to think about his hair. He doesn’t want to function even. He wants to crawl back to bed and stay there for two days.

He knows he can’t, so he decides on a cold shower. Maybe it will wake him up. Maybe he can risk extreme pruning and fall asleep under the showerhead. He chooses the former option. He doesn’t want someone to find him dead when looking like a raisin.

After a quick shower and a green apple for breakfast, he dons his biggest t-shirt, doesn’t care about styling his wet hair and wears a pair of wayfarers because he didn’t want to scare fellow commuters with his lifeless eyes.

The journey by metro takes him a little less than twenty minutes and he has to walk the rest of the way. Gaienmae is a thriving business neighbourhood, and it is always filled with people impeccably dressed in their formal best. Right now, Yifan in his faded Captain America t-shirt and ripped jeans, looks completely out-of-place in the midst of sharply pressed suits and briefcases. He decides to duck in the nearest café and wait out, because he is thirty minutes early for his meeting anyway.

But the café turns out to be super crowded. Yifan tells himself he has thirty minutes; he can wait it out. Plus, the café has a nice nook for readers, filled with chairs and books. So he makes himself comfortable with a Haruki Murakami book after ordering a coffee to go. As he flips the paperback he realises he hasn’t read this one yet, and a quick glance tells him that the café sells books as well. He is looking forward to add _Colourless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage_ to his collection.

He doesn’t know how time passes, until he is at the second chapter and there is someone calling his name urgently. He jerks up from his seat and sees a boy glaring at him. The boy talks rapidly in an Osaka accent and thanklessly hands Yifan his serving of Americano. Only then does he look down at his watch and scrambles towards the counter to purchase his book because it is five minutes after ten. He doesn’t even collect his change as he races out through the door, paper parcel in one hand and hot coffee in other. It is a miracle no one dies by death due to extra-long limbs flailing about and blistering hot coffee in his wake.

Blue Dragon takes him another ten minutes to find. But he runs inside and when the security stops him, he nearly shouts at him in Mandarin. But the security guard gets his messy Japanese and the girl at the reception allows him to head for the fifth floor.

When the lift stops at the fifth, he stops to collect his breath. He brings a hand to his hair and shudders because he doesn’t need to know how the wind had styled his hair. Great way to make a first impression. At least he knows the director and no amount of impressing is needed there. But he would have liked to impress Kim Ji-n and ensure her he is the right man for this job. He looks down at his attire and thinks belatedly that he should have worn a suit instead. And put some hair product. Well fuck.

He shakes his head and squares his shoulders. Too late to regret. He is after all, running on very little sleep. He sips his coffee, which is still, thankfully, warm enough without burning his tongue. He finds room number seven soon enough and the door was already ajar. He peers in and sees two men and a woman sitting inside. One guy has his back facing him and the other guy and woman are discussing something with furrowed brows. He recognises Matsui Kirihara, the director. He pokes his head inside, whips his sunglasses off and says, “Hello? Can I come in?”

Kirihara raises her head and scoffs, “Kevin, you are late.”

“Yifan?” someone squawks. Yifan is surprised to hear his real name, because Kevin Li is his stage name and not many people know his real name outside the world of anime. He finally notices the short man in front of him. And his mouth drops to the floor. He is glad he didn’t drop his coffee instead.

Kim fucking Junmyeon _again_. Looking cute as fuck in the softest pink shirt and fluffy hair falling over the rim of his glasses.

Kirihara asks, “You two know each other?”

“Yes.”

“Yes!”

Junmyeon and Yifan say simultaneously. Then they stare at each other some more, trying to figure out why they are seeing each other in their professional spheres. Junmyeon speaks in Korean, his voice laced with surprise, “You are Kevin Li?”

Yifan slowly nods his head. He asks, in Korean too, “And what are you doing here?”

Junmyeon’s cheeks colour. He ducks his head and says, in the softest voice, “I am Kim Ji-n.”

Yifan’s eyes widen and he lowly whistles. Now the confidentiality contract makes sense. He takes his seat beside Junmyeon and tries to digest the entire situation.

The other unknown man speaks up, “Okay, that saved us from some work. I am Kwon Jiyong, Junmyeon’s agent. Well, Li-san already signed the confidentiality clause. And yes, I know, Kim Ji-n is a man. I hope you get over that.”

“I am over that,” Yifan says. He is still in shock. He looks over at Junmyeon, who sits with his head down, picking at his nails. Kim Ji-n is Kim Junmyeon; Kim Junmyeon is Kim Ji-n. Illustrator. Huh. He takes a huge gulp of his coffee.

…Well he lied too. Tit for that? Pot, kettle, black?

Life cannot get any weirder than this. Nope.

Jiyong claps his hands, “So shall we begin?”

 

Junmyeon arrived twenty minutes early to Blue Dragon. Jiyong offered him breakfast but he felt too squeamish to eat. His secret, the identity he has protected for more than five years is going to revealed today. He was too nervous to eat.

Matsui Kirihara arrived on time and her surprise was sort of soul-crushing. But like the true professional she is, she swept past it and conveyed she was looking forward to work with him. Junmyeon desperately hoped he doesn’t end up disappointing her because her perfectly pencilled eyebrows were silently judging him.

Kevin Li, the star of the show is running late. He shows up fifteen minutes later. Since Junmyeon had his back to the door, he doesn’t see Kevin coming in. But when he hears the low baritone of “Hello? Can I come in?”

Something jolts in his system. The voice. He has heard it while being pressed to a wall two days ago. He turns his head and his head swims.

Wu fucking Yifan _again_. In messy hair and ripped jeans. Oh be still his heart! Junmyeon can see the remnants of eyeliner and he wants to duck under the table and never come out.

Also…Kevin Li is Wu Yifan? _What_? So before he can control himself, his voice loses control and he squawks, “Yifan?”

Kevin, no Yifan looks at him and the surprise is evident in his eyes. His mouth falls and he gapes. Junmyeon understands that sentiment.

Kirihara asks, “You two know each other?”

“Yes.”

“Yes!”

Junmyeon and Yifan say simultaneously. Junmyeon stares unblinkingly at him. This is surreal. This is downright supernatural. First he meets Yifan in a bar, then in a club where Sehun is a regular and then here, of all places on earth. He never believed in fate, destiny or kismet or all that jazz, but wow, he might need to recalibrate his beliefs. He switches off from Japanese and speaks in Korean, his voice laced with surprise, “You are Kevin Li?”

Yifan slowly nods his head. He asks, in Korean too, “And what are you doing here?”

Junmyeon feels his cheeks heating up as he looks down at his shoes and says, softly, “I am Kim Ji-n.” No use in denying.

 Junmyeon hears Yifan’s low whistle. Yifan comes to sit beside him. Junmyeon doesn’t have the courage to face him. His biggest secret is out. And so is Yifan’s and this is just plain strange. Junmyeon feels lost at sea. He doesn't even know how to start processing all this.

Then Jiyong says, “Okay, that saved us from some work. I am Kwon Jiyong, Junmyeon’s agent. Well, Li-san already signed the confidentiality clause. And yes, I know, Kim Ji-n is a man. I hope you get over that.”

Junmyeon hears Yifan muttering, “I am over that.”

Jiyong claps his hands, “So shall we begin?”

Junmyeon pushes his glasses up his nose and taps the table with his fingers. Yifan can tell he is nervous. Well, this is first rodeo. Yifan shifts closer and places his hand flat on Junmyeon’s denim-clad thighs. Junmyeon is startled and blinks like a helpless rabbit from the dark curtain of his hair and Yifan’s heart positively _lurches_. Yifan smiles, “It is okay.” He switches to Korean, “I know this is your first time. And you have to trust me and Matsui-san.”

Junmyeon smiles shakily and places his hand on top of Yifan’s. Suddenly the thunderous roar in his head calms down. Now, he is simply glad that Yifan is here, giving him support. He nods once at Jiyong, who gives him two thumbs up. He clears his throat, “I know _Blue Moon Over the Jasmine Hills_ isn’t a conventional manga. My characters are peculiar, and they weren’t created on accident…”

 

The meeting breaks after three hours. Yifan had taken copious notes and asked a million questions. Junmyeon was beaming at Yifan’s enthusiasm and professionalism. Matsui Kirihara, too, fell into sync as well, and by the end of the meeting, Junmyeon knew he had at least earned a grain of respect from her. She left with a promise to get back to Junmyeon as soon as the first draft of her script is finished.

Jiyong soon leaves the two of them alone, not before leering at Junmyeon and pointing at Yifan’s general direction. Junmyeon wants to plant his face on the table, but refrains—his glasses have Crizal lenses in them (he had burned a substantial hole in his pocket for luxuries like this). So he opts to roll his eyes.

Finally, it is just them. Just two people who had lied about their identities and professions. Just two people who had known each other more intimately than should be normal for people who just met twice. Just two people that find a sense of comfort in their shared reveal and the fact that they will never need to impress each other. Just two people who still find it difficult to keep their hands off themselves. So Yifan’s hand remains on Junmyeon’s thigh and Junmyeon’s hand remains on top of Yifan’s larger ones.

Junmyeon can feel the heat from Yifan’s fingertips seep through the heavy material. It sends tiny sparks of electricity up his body. He slowly traces the knuckles on Yifan’s hand. Yifan chuckles, “If you make a joke about my hands, I swear—”

Junmyeon giggles and looks at him. The professional skin has been shed and they are no longer Kevin Li and Kim Ji-n. Junmyeon says, “But, goodness, you have yaoi hands and you voice yaoi anime! This is just too great!”

Yifan hits Junmyeon on his shoulder and that just seems to make the latter laugh more. “Shut up. I am aware my entire life is a huge set-up for the greatest joke ever,” he grumbles. Junmyeon stops but his eyes still twinkle. “So, you really aren’t a woman are you? Because that will just confuse me more.”

Junmyeon giggles again. “No, rest assured, I am a guy!”

Yifan grins and turns his hand up, so Junmyeon can lace his fingers through. “I am still surprised, no doubt about that. Guy I kiss on a train turns out to be the reason for my next pay cheque is truly amazing.”

Junmyeon leans on the table, supporting his head with his hand. He peers at Yifan and asks, “Why did you lie then? You don’t work in radio.”

“I still record the occasional jingle. But this is my main day job. Why did _you_ lie?”

“Can you imagine meeting someone who draws sexually explicit manga and publishes them under a female pseudonym?”

“Hmm,” Yifan makes a great show of rubbing his chin and being deep in thought. Junmyeon sees right through it, so he flicks Yifan on his forehead which has the latter laughing again. “I would have shown surprise but I'd be cool with it. Your work is good, I know...Would you have minded if you met someone whose resume reads ‘Can make great orgasmic noises’?”

Junmyeon blushes a deep scarlet at that (and the compliment bfore that. Yifan has read his work. Be still his heart, and ego). Should he tell Yifan he had watched his works and enjoyed how deep and wonderful Kevin Li’s voice sounded as his character busy pounded someone from behind? Nah. That can wait…wait for what? Junmyeon feels the roots of his hair sizzle as he entertains that thought. Wait for a live performance? Oh _yes_. Sure.

Yifan smirks. He knows what Junmyeon is thinking. Fuck, even he is thinking the same thing. He leans close, extremely close. His lips brush against Junmyeon’s ears as he whispers (taking care to switch to his lowest pitch), “If you want, you can get a first-hand experience.”

Junmyeon is halfway between melting to the floor and bolting out of the chair to calm the fuck down because how does this guy manage to sound so sexy? Of all the men in Japan he had to make out with the man who knows how to work his blessed voice. Junmyeon thinks he might have a voice kink by now. He gulps and his voice is squeaky when he says, “Take me out on a proper date first Wu Yifan.” A date feels like such a chore when they already had played tonsil hockey… _twice_ , Junmyeon muses.

Yifan playfully nips at the shell of Junmyeon’s ear. Junmyeon swats at him. Yifan leans back and chuckles; and enjoys the beautiful flush on Junmyeon’s cheeks. He says, “Lunch?”

Junmyeon lips slowly curve into a smile and his eyes form crescents as he nods his head (Yifan’s breath positively catches), “Yeah.”

 _Thankfully_ , they don’t forget to exchange numbers this time (Hallelujah!).

 

It has been a few months since Junmyeon and Yifan officially started dating. Junmyeon soon learned that what he had feared wouldn’t last and would only be mutual physical attraction turned into something that he can feel like it will last. He realises he likes Yifan more than just for the searing kisses and the burning touches. He likes Yifan’s gummy smile. He adores Yifan’s dorky side (and admires it when Yifan turns into Mr Sexy Guy and Junmyeon just wants to pull Yifan close to him and fuck him then). He admires Yifan’s work ethic as he is striving so hard to capture every broken emotion of his character, breathing life into Miyazaki (Junmyeon thinks how no one else could have done it better). He likes Yifan’s Saturday morning bed hair. He likes when Yifan leaves him little messages at odd hours (or, in other words, whenever he has his shift at Two Moons). He likes how Yifan is a gentle giant and rather spend his time curled up on his favourite chair and read books. He likes how cuddly Yifan is post-coital (that has Junmyeon’s heart doing stupid shoujo manga heroine things). He likes how Yifan cares for his favourite people He likes how Yifan cares for him.

Basically, four months into dating, Junmyeon is completely in love.

In love with stupid jokes and questionable choices in fashion. In love with him leaning over a wok tossing his favourite pork stir-fry on Tuesday nights. In love with the way the light falls on him in Junmyeon’s studio. In love with the awkward way he walks. In love with his passion for alpacas.

Right now, Junmyeon is leaning against Yifan who laughs at something Minseok says. Since they started dating Yifan has made his peace with Minseok and buried the hatchet; and both Luhan and Junmyeon had almost cried at that. Luhan and Kyungsoo are together, so is Minseok and Jongdae. Surprisingly Zitao and Sehun are pseudo-dating, whatever that means (Sehun had tried to explain, “It is a commitment without really committing, you know hyung!” No hyung didn’t know and neither did he want to. Hey, as long as Sehun’s happy). So now, all of them sit around a large table in Black Pearl after hours making unnecessary noise for dinner. But Junmyeon loves it.

Sehun is being gently coaxed (read: manipulated) by Kyungsoo and Luhan to try his hands at modelling because according to them Sehun has the face, the body and “the booty!” (Zitao helpfully adds and Sehun blushes). Minseok has found a fellow tea snob in Zitao and is now engaged in a fierce battle over which Asian country produces the best tea leaves. Jongdae groans in defeat.

Yifan laughs at Jongdae making faces at Zitao. Junmyeon’s head was on Yifan’s shoulder, so he cranes his neck to look at him. Yifan looks down when he feels a gush of warm breath tickle the side of his neck and then casually runs a finger through Junmyeon’s hair. It is late, there had been way too many bottles of soju and endless servings of meat. They are sated and a gentle peace lulls over them. Junmyeon is reminded of the night in Ikebukuro. Yifan is his calm, he knows by now.

Yifan presses his lips against Junmyeon’s and whispers, “Hey, do you wanna know something crazy?”

“You are giving away your alpaca collection?” Junmyeon grins.

Yifan rolls his eyes. “That is never happening. No.” His eyes are amazingly gentle when he says, “I am in love with you. I know we know each for not that long—”

Junmyeon raises his head and puts a finger on Yifan’s lips. Junmyeon’s heart thuds and there is a buzzing in his ears. _Yifan feels the same_? He shakes his head, “You know, the length of time knowing someone is not a precedent for how you feel. So no, four months isn’t crazy. In fact, it’d be crazy if I wasn’t in love with you as well.”

Yifan looks at him for a few seconds. His heart roars in his chest. The four months he had spent with Junmyeon has been amazing. Yifan figured it out that he wanted to be with Junmyeon longer, much longer. He was sure of it. Junmyeon’s words are slowly making sense in his alcohol swaddled brain. When it does, he asks, and he sounds unsure, “You love me?” He is afraid to take the leap and not find Junmyeon beside him.

Wu Yifan was prepared to not give love another chance. But Junmyeon changed all of that. Kim Junmyeon is not only a beautiful face, cute smiles and amazing kisses; he is also kind, warm and passionate about his work (Yifan can spend hours watching Junmyeon talk about the new chapter he finished or about a new story arc he has thought about). Junmyeon has made him want something more, an ambiguous something more that he didn’t know he wanted before this. Suddenly, he doesn’t want to run from this, he wants to get attached. He wants to be happy. So he hopes he understood Junmyeon’s words correctly.

Junmyeon’s heart beats fast and if they weren’t around so many people, he would have kissed Yifan to drive home his point. He chooses to entwine their hands and say, “Yes. I love you, you idiot.”

Time stands still and Yifan’s dazzling smile is the brightest thing in the world. Junmyeon is right there beside him, freefalling just like he is. And his smile is equally bright.

 

* * *

 

 

(“You know it is amazingly insane that the people around us knew each other but we didn’t.”

“I was thinking the same thing last night and nearly served beer to my customer instead of the vodka he ordered.”

“How crazy is it that Zitao knew Sehun and Luhan and Minseok dated? Sometimes I cannot wrap my head around it!”

“How crazy is it that the people our friends set us up with ended up with us finding each other?”

“And then they are dating them instead!”

“This feels like a plot of some crazy story. And the author had way too much time connecting things any way possible.”

“Yup. Oh, story reminds me. Hey, Fanfan, can I draw you someday?”

“Ugh, please don’t call me Fanfan, Bunnymyeon. And you want to draw me, why?”

“Bunnymyeon? Seriously? Fine then, how about I call you venti caramel frappucino?”

“Excuse me?”

“Extra-long baguette?”

“Dude…”

“How about microphone stand?”

“…Stick to Fanfan. And stop hanging around with Luhan.”

“I like Luhan. He knows when the best sales hit stores. And he is funny.”

“One, he isn’t funny at all, he is the devil incarnate and he practices voodoo when he is bored—I am five hundred percent sure of that. And two, never tell him that he is funny or I know of his witchy ways. So…why do you want to draw me?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Of course. I am terribly sexy. Who wouldn’t want to draw this perfection?”

“No…that’s definitely not why.”

“Then why?”

“Your yaoi hands are inspiring.”

“…seriously, I _am_ banning Luhan from our lives.”)


End file.
